


The Bodyguard

by Rogue_Phoenix_San



Series: Life With The Bodyguard [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Assassination Attempt(s), Big Gay Love Story, Bribery, Choking, Disguised Appearance, Dismemberment, Flirting, Gay Sex, Girls with Guns, Guns, Hiding From Mafia, Ice Skating, Katana, M/M, Olympic Scandal, Revenge, Rogue Phoenix San, Russian Mafia, Scandal, Shameless Smut, Smut, The Bodyguard -Series, Yakuza, Yaoi, Yoi - Freeform, Yuri on Ice - Freeform, the bodyguard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Phoenix_San/pseuds/Rogue_Phoenix_San
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov stood on the podium, waiting to receive his Olympic silver medal. He was still in shock but tried his best to keep the smile plastered to his face and not let on just how confused, angry and pissed off he was. He had skated two gold-medal programs perfectly, yet here he was with the silver medal being placed around his neck.As if things weren't insulting enough, Yakov tells him that he can't go back to Russia. Apparently, the Bratva had bet a shit-ton of money on him winning gold and were pretty pissed off that their 'investment' had been a dud.And even though the circumstances are out of his control, Viktor has to go into hiding. A new name, a safehouse, and a bodyguard in Japan would hopefully keep him safe from the Bratva's clutches until things died down a bit.But trouble would find Viktor, even in Japan.DO NOT COPY TO ANOTHER SITE.Не копируйте это на другой сайт.





	1. Chapter One

Viktor Nikiforov was getting deliciously, viciously, and magnificently railed from behind by the hot bodyguard who had been assigned to him for his own protection. His lips twitched as his mouth tried and failed to form a wry smile. Apparently that 'protection' didn't extend to his ass.

His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he was being pulled back and held in place by the chain connecting each cuff. It had hurt at the beginning as the handcuffs had dug into his wrists. But as his body became flooded with increasing pleasure, his mind went completely blank and he didn't even notice the biting pain of the cuffs anymore. All he could focus on was the thick cock filling him completely with each thrust. His precum-soaked bikini briefs were stuffed in his mouth, saturating him with his own salty taste, and muffling his screams. Viktor rocked his hip backward to meet each brutally delightful assault to his backside. Each time those hips behind him snapped forward, jolts of electricity would get sent right through that magical spot deep inside him. His dripping cock bounced out in front of him and slapped back onto his abdomen with the force of each movement. His stomach felt like it was filling with molten lava, a heat that was slowly making its way through the rest of his body, spreading out to all his extremities and threatening to overflow. He _really_ had to be thankful for the IOC's fuckup, for it had led him to this very moment…to _him_ getting delectably _fucked up_. As another muffled scream was ripped from his throat, he marveled at how different his life had been just a short while ago.

**_One month earlier…_ **

Viktor Nikiforov stood on the podium, waiting to receive his Olympic silver medal. He was still in shock but tried his best to keep the smile plastered to his face and not let on just how confused, angry and pissed off he was. He had skated two gold-medal programs perfectly, yet here he was with the silver medal being placed around his neck. They were in PyeongChang and the Korean skater; Seung-Gil Lee had bagged the illustrious gold medal instead of him. It was true that the young man had skated quite well, clearly inspired by the home crowd, but to Viktor's critical eye…it hadn't seemed enough for a gold medal. As Viktor's eyes scanned the crowd, he saw that they were clearly divided. The South Koreans were of course absolutely thrilled, but the rest of the crowd seemed about as stunned and bewildered as he himself felt. They got through the winning nation's anthem and Viktor did the obligatory smiling and waving to the crowd. When he stepped off the ice, he was completely mobbed by the media. The questions tumbled out at a maddening pace. He barely had time to answer one when five more would be asked in rapid succession.

_**"How does the great Viktor Nikiforov feel about having his gold medal streak stopped dead in its tracks?"** _

"Well, I've had a very good career and eight consecutive gold medals is an unprecedented feat and will probably remain that way for quite some time."

_" **Viktor! Is this the end of the road for you? Will you retire after the season is over?"**_

"I will refrain from making any announcements about the future of my career at this time, thank you."

Then the questions took a dark turn and things started to get out of hand.

**_"Viktor, there's talk already out on the net of how suspicious Seung-Gil's win is. Do you think that you were purposely judged and scored unfairly?"_ **

"The International Olympic Committee has very high standards for its judges and scoring protocol. I have no reason to think that this is the case."

_**"Mr. Nikiforov, how do you respond to rumors that you purposely skated less than your best this weekend?"** _

Viktor was absolutely shocked, the smile melted off his face and he gaped at the reporter.

"What the hell kind of question is _that_? I _always_ skate my best every time I step out onto the ice!"

Yakov stepped in just then and put a stop to all the questions. He stated that there was somewhere Viktor needed to be and they, unfortunately, had to leave at that very moment. Viktor had never been so grateful for Yakov's surly disposition and cantankerous-looking mug than he was at that very moment. The reporters cleared a path for them and they were able to make it out of the arena and into a cab. The silence was eventually broken by Yakov's gruff voice.

"You should have won gold."

Viktor sighed.

"I know."

The rest of the cab ride was made in silence. Yakov kept looking at his phone, his scowl furrowing deeper each time he checked the notifications and typed out replies. Viktor tried to pretend he didn't notice. He didn't want to pry, and kept himself busy by focusing on the turmoil of thoughts and feelings at war inside his body. When they got back to the hotel, Viktor was surprised to find Yakov following him to his room. When he tried to ask him what was going on, Yakov simply shook his head and shot him a look. Viktor knew that look. It was the 'not now' look. Something serious was going on and Viktor knew better than to question Yakov's judgment. Once they were back in the hotel room, Yakov checked the bathroom and the closet before pulling the curtains closed. He sat down on the bed and motioned for Viktor to do the same.

"Yakov? What's going on?"

"Vitya, the Bratva gambled away millions and millions of dollars on the results of various sports in the Olympics. Most of that money was spent betting on you taking gold."

Viktor's eyes widened and he brought his hand up to cover his mouth as the full implications of Yakov's statement hit him.

"You can't go back to Russia, it's not safe for you there."

Viktor lowered his hand and tried to speak, but nothing came out. He was shocked speechless.

"That Korean's gold medal is fishy as hell and there's already talk of an investigation. You'll have to go into hiding until the investigation is over. We can't risk a reporter finding you and then giving your location away to the mafia. They're raging mad, Vitya. They think that you threw the competition."

"But I would never…"

Yakov placed a gentle hand on Viktor's shoulder and tried to give him a reassuring squeeze.

"I know, Vitya. But they're angry and they feel cheated. They've lost millions of dollars. They're going to think that until things are cleared up."

Yakov was not a very tactile or comforting person, but he was trying his best, and for that Viktor was thankful.

"So, what do we do now?"

Yakov went to the mini bar and grabbed every single bottle there was, and brought them all to the bed.

"Let's begin."

Yakov, ever the planner and master of back-up plans, had quickly managed to get the ball rolling on a lot of things. Lilia had already been to Viktor's house to take his medals and trophies into a secret vault for safe keeping. She had also selected some clothes, toiletries and personal effects for him and packed a suitcase. His things would make their way to him within the next few days or so. An international security firm had been hired to keep his house under 24-hour surveillance, should anyone feel the need to vandalize it. They were consummate professionals from England and would not succumb to bribery. Makkachin had been picked up from the pet hotel and was safe with Lilia. Ms. Baranovskaya was on par with Russian royalty, so she was off-limits and would not be bothered.

Yakov had connections with the Yakuza and had called in a few favors. He had to keep all the crucial planning and information out of Russia, as they were easily bought and not very trustworthy. The Bratva had its claws in just about everything. Viktor was being sent to a small town in Japan to lay low until the whole fiasco blew over. Once in Japan, he would be provided with a trustworthy bodyguard. Yakov took out two passports with two different identities. He asked Viktor to choose one.

"Yakov, how the hell did you get two new fake passports made in such a short time?"

"Vitya, I've had these ready for years, now. You don't spend your whole life in Russia without thinking about contingency plans for the day shit hits the fan. I have these made for all my skaters."

Viktor looked down at the two passports. To his dismay, neither of the two identities portrayed a man with silver hair. One had black hair and the other had chocolate brown hair. Yakov noticed his displeasure.

"Vitya, I know this is hard, but you're going to have to put your safety above your vanity. I have both colors with me right now, as soon as you choose one, we'll get started with the change. They're temporary dyes, so if things end sooner than later, it won't be too hard to switch back."

Viktor's shoulders slumped in defeat as he pointed to the brown-haired one. And so, Viktor Nikiforov decided to become Anatoly Ivashkin.

He took the box of hair color from Yakov and got right down to the business of dying his hair. Yakov mentioned that he should also find a new way to style his brown mane. The side part with hair covering his left eye was too recognizable, even in a different color. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. Yakov reached into his bag once more and removed a box of non-prescription dark brown contact lenses. He suggested that Viktor put them in after he washed his hair out and started getting used to his new face as soon as possible. They would be leaving in the middle of the night under disguises. Yakov pulled out a blonde wig with long bangs and some large sunglasses.

"Боже мой, Yakov! How many more things do you have in that damn bag? How did you get everything together so quickly?"

"I also have some different clothes. Can't have you leaving in the same clothes you came in with, now can we? You'd be recognized right away. I had most of this stuff ready by the time you were on the podium. My phone started going crazy immediately after the results were announced."

Viktor whimpered dejectedly as he eyed the low-quality androgynous garments.

"Vitya."

"I know, Yakov. I know. Safety before vanity."

Viktor stared at himself in the mirror and did not recognize the face staring back at him at all. His brown hair and eyes were so foreign to him. He experimentally slicked his hair back and pulled some pieces forward and gasped. He was now staring into the face of Anatoly Ivashkin.

At 3 am, Yakov gave him a firm hug, a pat on the back and a new smartphone. He took Viktor's old smartphone and said he would keep it safe until he could use it again. Viktor left the hotel wearing the blonde wig and big sunglasses, and accompanied by an American Yakov had brought in for this part of the operation. Viktor walked beside the American man, who had loosely wrapped an arm around his waist. They laughed, flirted and pretended to be a couple as they walked to a waiting car outside. People probably thought he was just another prostitute and paid them no mind. Just before arriving at the airport, Viktor removed the blonde wig and sunglasses and handed them to the American, who put them both on. Viktor fixed up his hair and took a deep breath, he just had to make it to Japan on his own. Once there, he would have someone with him again.

'Anatoly' cleared customs without a single hitch. He had apparently arrived in PyeongChang for business 2 days ago and was now headed to Japan for the same reason. Viktor was very impressed at how authentic-looking all the visas and stamps in his passport were. Korean customs certainly didn't have any problems with them. Soon, he was on the plane to Fukuoka, Japan. A few restless hours later he disembarked with his one piece of carry-on luggage. He cleared customs once more and then found himself in the arrivals lounge, without a single clue as to who he was supposed to meet or what they even looked like. After wandering around aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity, he spotted a sign.

_**Dreamland Tours** _

_Mr. Anatoly Ivashkin_

 

He walked over cautiously to the young Japanese man holding the sign. He looked to be a little shorter than himself with a slim build. He was wearing blue-framed glasses and his shaggy black hair fell flat against his forehead. He had on a gaudy orange colored company polo shirt and khaki pants. His bright smile lit up his face as soon as he spotted him. When he opened his mouth, he spoke in smooth and unaccented English.

"Mr. Ivashkin, I presume?"

Viktor extended his hand.

"Yes, I am Anatoly Ivashkin. And you are?"

"I'm Kaito Watanabe with Dreamland Tours. I'm here to drive you to your accommodations in Hasetsu."

"Ah, thank you Mr. Watanabe. Shall we get going then? I'm a bit tired."

"Certainly, Mr. Ivashkin. Please follow me."

Viktor was led to a car with Dreamland Tours written on the sides. They made small talk for the first few minutes, and then Viktor's exhaustion finally hit him all at once and he was soon fast asleep.

**...**

"Mr. Nikiforov. Viktor, wake up."

Viktor sat up with a jolt, brain foggy with confusion. For a split second, he had no idea where he was. Then he remembered that he was in a car on his way to his temporary home in Japan. Then a few things hit him. First, the driver next to him was not the same person who had picked him up at the airport. This man was also Japanese, but his hair was slicked back, he wasn't wearing any glasses and he was in a blue sweater and jeans. The second thing he noticed was that this man had used his real name. Panic instantly filled his very soul and his eyes darted around wildly for any means of escape. _How had he been found out already?_ Viktor had just started considering jumping out of the moving car when a surprisingly strong hand gripped his wrist and locked him in place.

"Calm down, you haven't been compromised. Kaito Watanabe is one of my personas. I changed while you were sleeping."

Viktor let out a shaky breath and settled himself back down on his seat. A second later, his body broke out in violent shaking. The compiled stress of the last twelve hours finally came crashing down on him _hard_. He had put on a brave face for Yakov, he had maintained that brave face through two sets of customs, but now he just couldn't keep it going anymore. He covered his face with his one free hand as he tried to regain his composure. The hand gripping his other wrist lessened its hold on him and he felt a thumb rubbing soothing circles onto the palm of his hand. A few minutes later Viktor was able to lower his hand and breathe more normally.

"Sorry about that. It's been a rough night."

The young Japanese man removed his hand and brought it back to the steering wheel.

"I understand. I have been fully briefed on the situation and am aware of your particular circumstances."

"So...if you're not Kaito Watanabe...what _should_ I call you?"

"You may call me Yuuri Katsuki. That's the name I was born with and that's what I use when I am not required to play any specific role."

"I see. Nice to meet you Mr. Katsuki."

Yuuri picked up a cup and handed it to him.

"Coffee, double milk and double sugar, just how you like it."

Viktor was surprised that he knew about his coffee preferences.

"Yes Mr. Nikiforov, I've been briefed on _many_ things about you. We'll be living together for a potentially indeterminate period of time. I wanted to know just what kind of person I'd be living with."

"Wait, we're going to be living together?"

The man named Yuuri raised an eyebrow quizzically at him.

"Were you not informed of our arrangement beforehand?"

Viktor groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair.

"No. I wasn't told much at all. Just get to Japan and the bodyguard will be there. I didn't even know what or who I was looking for when I arrived."

"Hmm, that explains why you looked so lost and confused when you arrived. I kept moving around trying to place myself in your line of sight so that you saw the sign, but you kept looking away."

"Ah, sorry about that. I was a bit of a wreck when I arrived."

"That's understandable."

"So, are you that bodyguard, then?"

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"In any other situation I would be absolutely surprised that someone of your stature could be considered a Yakuza bodyguard. But I'm actually not."

"Oh? What changed your mind?"

"You have one helluva strong grip."

Viktor lifted his left hand and pushed his sleeve back a bit. Small purple bruises had already started to form where Yuuri's fingers had dug into his flesh.

The Japanese man in question suddenly blushed an adorable shade of red.

"くそ! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to grip you so tightly. It's just that, you looked ready to jump out of the car and I _really_ didn't want that to happen!"

As Viktor opened his mouth to speak, a filthy little thought popped into his head.  _I wonder what that hard grip would feel like on something...else that was hard._  He shook his head and brought his palms to his cheeks in a gentle slap in an attempt to get himself grounded again. Where _the hell did THAT come from? I should not be having dirty thoughts about someone I just met._ Viktor took a deep breath and cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Well, ah...thanks for that, I appreciate it. These bruises are nothing, falling badly during a jump attempt is much more painful."

Yuuri nodded and didn't say anything else after that, and Viktor was thankful for the silence. He just leaned his head back into his seat and tried to collect his thoughts.

**…**

Before he knew it, they were pulling up next to a rather charming and very traditional-looking little house. The city was bordered by the sea and their house was almost right on it. Viktor looked around and saw that the area was quite secluded and the nearest homes appeared to be at least a 10-minute walk away. They seemed to be in the outskirts of town, on the tip of some peninsula. He felt instantly reassured knowing that he at least he wouldn't have any nosy neighbors to deal with. Yuuri unlocked the doors and they stepped out. It was almost noon when they arrived and the cold winter sun shone down brightly on them, reflecting off the white snow currently blanketing everything. Viktor stared longingly at the sea, and sighed. Everything about this place reminded him of St. Petersburg. He could almost picture all the seagulls flying around during the warmer summer months.

"Are the accommodations not to your liking?"

Viktor was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Yuuri's voice.

"No, no…the house and area are both beautiful. It's perfect here."

Yuuri stared at him a bit longer before he motioned for them to go inside.

"This is called a Minka house. It's very old-school Japanese style. You don't see many people living in these kinds of houses anymore. The ones still left standing have mostly been converted into hotels or ryokan."

Viktor stopped just before the front door of the house. All things considered, he had to admit that he was quite happy with the arrangements Yakov had made. The roommate aspect was a bit of a shock. Viktor had been living alone, barring Makkachin of course, ever since he had turned eighteen and was of legal age to do so. Even when away on competitions he would always have his own room. He'd just have to suck it up and endure it. At least he'd have a cute Japanese man to keep him company. Things could have been much, much worse. He could have been holed up in some kind of hovel somewhere in deplorable conditions. Viktor took a deep breath and stepped through the open door of his new temporary home.

Yuuri went into tour guide mode as soon as they stepped into the house.

"This area is called the genkan. This is where we remove our outdoor shoes, the getabako is the rack we keep them on."

Viktor removed his boots and placed them on the shoe rack thingie. He watched as Yuuri did the same.

"Unlike some western countries, wearing outdoor shoes inside your house is taboo in Japan."

The actual house was a bit higher than the area they had come in to, and Viktor noticed some slippers.

"You may choose to wear these if you'd like. It's also quite comfortable to walk barefoot or in socked feet on the tatami floors. I'll leave the choice up to you."

Viktor chose to put on the pair of slippers, noting with a bit of surprise that they fit him perfectly. The other pair next to them was smaller and more suited for Japanese feet. _Those must be for Yuuri._

"The home has been slightly modified to include modern comforts such as western toilets, showers and beds."

Viktor was suddenly very curious.

"Were there no toilets before? And what did people sleep on if there weren't any beds?"

Yuuri laughed, an attractive and melodic sound that was very pleasing to Viktor's ears.

"The original house had squat toilets. Basically, a hole in the ground…but with plumbing."

Yuuri laughed again when he saw the horrified look on Viktor's face at the mention of squat toilets.

"Before there were western style beds, people slept on futons laid out on the floor."

"Well, I am extremely grateful that the home owners decided to make the…necessary upgrades."

Yuuri replied with a distracted 'mhh' before walking further into the house. Viktor thought his answer was a bit strange but didn't dwell on it too much.

"This here is your room."

Viktor set his one piece of luggage in the corner and eyed the bed appreciatively. It was a twin bed, a bit smaller than what he was used to, but it looked long enough to accommodate his full length and felt soft with just the right amount of give when he pushed down on it with his hand. His closet was quite small, tiny actually. Not that he'd need anything bigger, he'd only brought the bare minimum with him and wasn't expecting much more. If Lilia packed all suitcases like she packed her own, he was going to get only the most basic and utilitarian items from her. The woman was brutally frugal when it came to luggage. The room also had a small desk and only one large window.

"Thank you, it's perfect."

Yuuri nodded and motioned for him to follow.

"This is the living room. The table with a blanket attached to it is called a kotatsu, and it's a godsend in the winter time. It's heated and you can put as much of your body under it as you want. I'll show you how it works later on tonight when the temperature starts to drop."

Viktor vaguely remembered hearing something about a kotatsu somewhere before. The concept intrigued him greatly. The heated table seemed to be surrounded by some kind of floor sofa, or seating without any legs to lift it off the ground. He could already imagine himself cozying up with a good book with his legs stretched out under the kotatsu.

"There are two bathrooms. This one here has the bathtub and the other one only has a shower. You see that little stool next to that faucet?"

Viktor nodded.

"In Japan, people wash their bodies thoroughly before going into any kind of water meant for soaking. This stems from the days when an entire family would be expected to make use of the same bath water. These days it's meant for common courtesy purposes. No one in an onsen wants to soak in sweat soup."

"Got it."

Yuuri stopped to quickly show him the other bathroom before heading to the kitchen. Viktor was relieved to find that the kitchen was quite modern with all the right appliances. Viktor spotted the electric kettle and suddenly felt a biological need for some tea.

Yuuri followed his line of sight and walked up to one of cupboards and opened it. The tea is in here. There's Earl Grey, Breakfast Tea and Apple Cinnamon. There's strawberry jam in here too.

Viktor's jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

"Holy shit, you really DID learn all my preferences. I'm not sure whether to be severely flattered or incredibly creeped out."

Yuuri laughed that laugh again and Viktor's stomach did some happy little somersaults at the sound. He was going to struggle if he was already like this after a just a few hours. Suddenly a thought struck him.

"Yuuri, where will you sleep? You didn't show me a second bedroom."

The young Japanese man shot Viktor a very bemused look, a quirky smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.

"I didn't think my room was that important."

"Yuuuuuuri, I wanna see your room!"

"Viktor, are you inviting yourself into my bedroom?"

"Yes! You got to see _my_ bedroom, I don't see why I can't see _yours_."

Yuuri closed the distance between them and stepped in close, looking into his eyes with the most intense and searing look he had experienced in the history of...ever.

"Oh? Are we playing 'you show me yours and I'll show you mine', now? Viktor, we've only just met. At least buy me a drink first."

Viktor had spoken without really thinking through the connotations of what he had said. The teasing smirk on Yuuri's lips made him blush deep red when he realized how it must have sounded.

He stood there sputtering awkwardly as he tried to come up with something to say. Yuuri laughed. _Боже мой, that laugh is going to be the death of me._ Without warning, Viktor's hand was suddenly encompassed by Yuuri's.

"Come on now, I was just teasing. I'll show you my room, Viktor. You can make me some tea later."

...

**_3 weeks ago..._ **

That first week living with Yuuri had left Viktor in a state of constant arousal and frustration. On Monday, he caught sight of Yuuri coming out of the shower with just a small (oh so _very_ small) towel wrapped around his waist. On Tuesday, Yuuri decided to lounge around the house in teeny little boxer shorts. Ridiculously short boxer shorts that had ridden up his thighs when he'd reached for something in the top cupboard of the kitchen. Viktor had been utterly mesmerized by the dual bottom curves of the finest ass he had seen in quite some time. Yuuri was being absolutely shameless. Viktor would know, HE was usually the one being shameless. Well, Viktor Nikiforov was _not_ about to be out-shameless'd. At first he’d thought Yuuri was just acting very comfortable around him. And then he remembered that Japanese people were generally supposed to be super conservative. He finally came to the conclusion that Yuuri knew _exactly_ what he was doing. More than once, Yuuri had caught Viktor staring lustily at him. Each time this happened, Yuuri's smirk grew wider and more salacious. The last time it happened he had actually winked at him. _Oh, it’s ON. This is **war**_. By Wednesday, Viktor had decided to launch an all-out counter attack. He also started wearing a strip of cloth around his waist after he took his showers and baths. He’d practically done a little victory dance that first day when he’d spotted Yuuri’s heated gaze devouring his torso. He’d taken to wearing his usual hair style while inside the house, and so it was like second nature for him to flick the hair out of his eye with the toss of his head and smile that dazzling Viktor smile at him. The result had been glorious, he had practically heard Yuuri swallowing dryly from across the room. _Good._

On Thursday morning, just after breakfast, Yuuri spotted a delivery truck making its way down their road.

“Viktor, under the kotatsu, now!”

Viktor just stood there, staring in confusion at the Japanese man.

“Just do it! Please, I’ll explain later!”

Viktor nodded and dove under the kotatsu, pulling his limbs in and hugging his knees to his chest. He stayed deadly silent, ears straining to hear what was going on.

The doorbell rang and Yuuri answered the door. It appeared that pleasantries were being exchanged. He didn’t understand what was being said but heard the sound of something heavy being brought into the house and placed on the living room floor. The door was closed and Viktor heard a vehicle driving away. He heard Yuuri walking around the house, like he was looking for something. He waited, and waited, for _some_ sign from Yuuri. Finally, after a few long minutes, he heard Yuri’s voice telling him it was OK to come out.

“What the hell was _that_ about?”  

“Well, your luggage was just delivered.”

“Oh, is _that_...all?”

Viktor would have laughed out loud at the silliness of Yuri's overreaction to the delivery had he not seen the dark look that took over his features.

“No, Viktor. That delivery was supposed to be made tomorrow. If any changes to the plan had been made, we would have known about it. Something's off.”

Viktor was suddenly very nervous.

“Do you think the Bratva have a lead on our location?”

“No. I don't think this is connected to the Bratva. The suitcase may have been shipped from Russia, but it went through a few national channels once it arrived in Japan.”

“So...you think that there's someone else after me?”

“No. This isn't about you, it's about _me_. I'm here to protect you, but as Yakuza...I also need to protect _myself_.”

Viktor gasped.

“You think that someone is after you, Yuuri?”

“It's just a hunch at the moment, but my instincts are usually spot on. Could you please take a seat? I need to make an important phone call, then I need to go over some contingency plans with you.”

Viktor gulped as he lowered himself weakly onto the futon. _I keep running away from trouble but trouble keeps chasing after me._ While Yuuri was on the phone, Viktor checked the news. The IOC had indeed launched an investigation the day after the men's single free skate and medal ceremony. They were still in the process of gathering evidence, but so far it clearly pointed in the direction of the Korean judge and two others. A few incriminating emails and text messages had been found so far, and some witnesses were being interviewed. Viktor sighed. At least the process had already begun. He had no idea how long he'd have to be in hiding for, but he had Worlds to practice for. He simply couldn't afford to take a month off without practicing. He looked up just in time to see Yuuri returning to the living room.

“Yuuri. I was thinking. If you're Yakuza...why don't you have any tattoos?”

Yuuri sighed heavily as he sat down on the futon next to Viktor.

“It's complicated. I _am_ Yakuza...and I'm not.”

Viktor tilted his head and stared at Yuuri in confusion.

“When I was was just five years old, my father inadvertently saved the Yakuza boss from a hit. I still don't know all the details, but needless to say, the Yakuza were quite pleased with him. They took care of our family and kept us safe and even helped pay for my education as well as my sister's. When I turned 15, there was a bit of a recession in Japan and tourism was also way down. My family's onsen was suffering terribly from the lack of business and was facing foreclosure. This house used to be our family home and my parents had to sell it to keep the business from going under. We all started living at the onsen. When the Yakuza boss found out, he bought the house back for us.”

“Wow, that's heavy. I'm sorry your family had to go through such hard times. But if the Yakuza boss bought back the house, why aren't you guys back living in it? It's a stunning home.”

“Viktor, the Yakuza didn't get where it is by doing favors for people.”

“But your dad saved the boss! Doesn't that count for something?”

“It did. They paid us back with the protection and assistance. As far as they were concerned, their 'debt' to my dad had been repaid in full. When they bought the house back for us, we were now in _their_ debt.”

“So how did you get yourselves out of their debt?”

“We didn't. Well, not yet, anyway. That's why I'm here. Once I was old enough to be told what was really going on, I realized that we didn't have that many options left. We didn't have money or valuables to give them. But we _did_ have something they could use...our servitude.”

Viktor's eyes grew wide.

“Yuuri...are you...a slave?”

Yuuri stared blankly at Viktor for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

“Oh kami, you're just too funny sometimes Viktor! No, I'm not a slave. I volunteered to serve them. My father was already too old, my mother simply doesn't have the heart for this line of work and I knew that if my sister went to work for them, she'd be a 'ruined woman' in no time. I volunteered because I will do whatever it takes to protect my family.”

Viktor was speechless.

“I serve them, but because I don't come from one of the official 'families', I don't have to get the tattoos. I'm kind of like...a freelancer of sorts. They trained me in various disciplines and I excelled at them all. Soon, I was one of their best. My position is invaluable. As an ordinary citizen I draw very little attention to myself and don’t have any official ties to the Yakuza that could be traced back to their organization. My service is so highly regarded that I became the first non-Yakuza to earn a Yakuza code name.”

Viktor's curiosity got the best of him and he blurted out the question before he could stop himself.

“What's your code name, Yuuri?”

Yuuri's mouth quirked up in a smug little smirk .

“My code name is Chameleon; for my ability to blend into any role.”

Viktor's face fell and he looked away quickly, hoping that Yuuri couldn't see his disappointment. It didn't work.

“Viktor? What's wrong?”

Viktor took a deep breath before turning to face Yuuri once more.

“So this Yuuri I know...he's just another 'role' of yours?”

Yuuri's eyes softened as he looked into Viktor's gorgeous sea-blue eyes.

“Nope. The only role I'm playing is that of your protector. This fine specimen currently before you is one hundred percent original Yuuri.”

Viktor laughed at Yuuri's choice of words.

“I mean, you're not wrong...”

Yuuri cleared his throat before switching to a more serious topic.

“So about earlier, I have reason to believe that I am being targeted by an enemy organization. I recently took on a role that resulted in half of their organization falling into the hands of law enforcement. They're rightfully pretty pissed off at me. I spoke to my local Yakuza contacts and they agree with me that there was something fishy about that delivery earlier today.”

Yuuri motioned for Viktor's phone.

“Please give me your phone. I will program their contact info for you. His name is Takeshi Nishigori and his wife's name is Yuuko. They are one of the 'original families that dates back hundreds of years. They are trustworthy and reliable. If you EVER feel that something is wrong or 'off' in the house, call one of them _immediately_. I don't care if you think it sounds silly or whatever....trust your gut. Human intuition is often more spot on than people realize.”

Viktor took his phone back when Yuuri held it out for him.

“Thanks, I'll remember that.”

“Also, if you’re in the house and feel that you need to hide, always use the kotatsu.”

Viktor looked at Yuuri like maybe he was one donut short of a baker’s dozen.

“Uhhh, ooo-kaaay. Why not my bedroom or the closet?”

“Um, because that’s the first place they’d look for you?”

Of course. That made perfect sense. Viktor felt a bit foolish for not having thought of that before.

“The right bullets can easily go through walls and even mattresses. You’d be a sitting duck if you chose to hide there. Besides, this is no normal kotatsu.”

Viktor stared at the kotatsu but really couldn’t tell how it was different from a normal one. This was literally the first one he’d ever seen.

“Pick up the kotatsu blanket and tell me what you think of it,” Yuuri said.

Viktor picked up one of the blanket panels and held it in his hand. His eyes widened when he realized something was off.

“It’s so heavy! Why is it so much heavier than a normal blanket?”

Yuuri winked cheekily at him.

“It’s made with Kevlar.”

Viktor gasped.

“You mean, the same stuff as the bullet-proof vests police officers wear?”

“Yup, the very same stuff. Now go under the kotatsu and look up at the underside of the table.”

Viktor did so but was back out less than ten seconds later, his face white as a sheet.”

“Y-Yuri, there’s a _gun_ under there!”

“Yes Viktor, but only as ‘in case of emergency, break the glass’ kind of scenario. I pray that neither of us will be required to use it. I have a vehement distaste for the damn things. It bothers me greatly that we have one in the house at all.”

Viktor felt somewhat relieved that at least Yuuri didn’t seem like one of those gun-obsessed gangster types who took pleasure in snuffing people out. An awkward kind of silence filled the room for the next few minutes. 

“Well, your stuff is here at least. That's exciting.”

Viktor smiled and nodded as he stood up and took his suitcase into his room.

He did not notice the pair of smoldering brown eyes that followed his every move.

On Friday morning, Viktor walked into the kitchen wearing only his black thong bikini briefs. Yuuri didn’t seem to be awake yet, so he busied himself with making some tea. He was so engrossed in his activity that he didn’t even hear Yuuri’s footsteps.

“I knew this house came with a great view, but this is ridiculous.”

Viktor nearly jumped out of his skin and almost spilled his tea at the sound of Yuuri’s voice suddenly right behind him. He looked over his shoulder as he addressed Yuuri, who was wearing these criminally short little booty shorts, and purposely did not turn around. He wanted to maximize the amount of time Yuuri would be able to appreciate his immaculately toned glutes. 

“Ah, Yuuuuuuri! Good morning! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Mhm. Sorry, bad habit. I’m used to sneaking around silently.”

“Well Yuuri, would you like to join me for breakfast?”

Viktor flexed the muscles of his ass and was incredibly pleased when Yuuri’s eyes lowered to follow the movement.  Viktor smiled triumphantly when he heard Yuuri’s voice crack as he spoke.

“I…uh…want to grab some tea, too.”

Viktor tilted his head adorably off to the side as he looked back at the Japanese man.

“Go right ahead, I’m not stopping you.”

Viktor knew very well that he was standing directly in front of the cupboard containing all the tea. If Yuuri wanted a hot beverage that morning, he would have to get indecently close to Viktor to get it.

Yuuri’s eyes seemed to darken and narrow slightly once he’d caught on to Viktor’s meaning. The Russian man had issued him a challenge and he was not about to back down. _I will teach this man not to mess with Yuuri Katsuki._ His competitive drive would not allow him to back down. Yuuri walked slowly and purposely toward the cupboard, the Russian’s eyes on him all the way. Yuuri pulled up right behind Viktor, stopping with just mere inches between their bodies.  

“Alright then, I’ll just help myself to some…tea.”

Yuuri reached up for the cupboard handle with his right hand, the action bringing his bare chest flush against the equally bare expanse of Viktor’s back. The shared contact sending blazing heat racing across their skin and causing Yuuri to bite back a moan. He took great comfort in knowing that Viktor also appeared to be equally affected, given the small shudders that shook the man’s body. Yuuri steeled himself as he focused on the task at hand, repeating his plan like a mantra. _Reach for the tea. Get the tea. Reach for the tea. Get the tea._ Yuuri pushed up on the balls of his feet, the tea almost in his grasp and…

_Oh!_

His actions had caused his semi-erect flesh to push up exquisitely against Viktor’s luscious backside, and the reaction from the man beneath him could not be ignored. Viktor’s gasp, followed by his drawn-out moan were like music to Yuuri’s ears. The sounds went directly to his cock, engorging it with blood and hardening it to the limit. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, reaching around to place his left hand on the counter for extra leverage. He was now obscenely pressed up against Viktor’s back and had the Russian man trapped against the counter. _Well, since I’m here, I might as well have some fun with it._ Yuuri repeated the action, pushing himself higher up on the balls of his feet, knowing full well that it would result in his cock pushing up flush against Viktor’s ass. Yuuri was not disappointed, for Viktor cried out, his back arching as he gripped the counter so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Yuuri closed his eyes and just let himself _feel_. Everywhere their bodies touched seemed to tingle with electricity. When Yuuri spoke, his voice came out low and husky.

“That pesky tea seems to be _just_ out of reach. It’s so odd, usually I don’t have this much of a _hard_ time.”  

Meanwhile, Viktor was suffering. He had quickly come to the conclusion that he had perhaps made a mistake in provoking Yuuri. He was hyper-aware of the Japanese man’s rock-hard cock pushing enticingly into his ass cheeks each time he reached for the tea. His own painfully hardened cock was getting pushed against the counter with each of Yuuri’s failed attempts. Viktor bit down on his lower lip as he fought the urge to grind up against the hardness poking into his backside. He knew that Yuuri was tormenting him on purpose, and drawing things out longer than necessary. Finally, after what seemed to be a torturous eternity, Yuuri finally got his damn tea.

The Japanese man lowered himself unhurriedly until his feet were both back flat on the floor, ensuring that his chest slid hotly and deliberately down Viktor’s back the entire way down.

“Ah, finally. Now, for the kettle. Should I wait for you to move or shall I just go around you again, Viktor?”

Viktor had never moved so fast.

“No! I mean…no worries. I…uh…need to go to the bathroom. So, I’ll be right back…yeah. Be right back!”

Viktor bolted from the kitchen and made a beeline for the bathroom. He had barely closed the door behind him when he was already reaching into his bikini briefs and pulling out his dripping cock. He pumped himself furiously, the memory of Yuuri’s heated skin on his and the way the man’s cock had felt nudging against his rump serving to bring him over the edge in seconds. He bit down on his knuckles as he came, trying to keep the noises down to a minimum. Gods how he yearned to just cry out at the top of his voice. Viktor flushed the toilet and proceeded to clean himself up. After washing his hand, he went back to his room for a change of clothes. He decided to play it safe and go for some jogging pants this time around. When he walked back into the kitchen, Yuuri was sitting down at the table, nonchalantly drinking his tea and nibbling innocently at some toast. He looked up at Viktor and broke into a smile that sent his heart aflutter. Yuuri pointed to a plate across from him on the table.

“I made you some toast.”

“Ahh, thank…you.”

Viktor sat down at the table and took a sip of his tea.

“Why the sudden wardrobe change, Viktor? Is it too cold in the house for you? I could,” Yuuri leaned forward a bit toward Viktor and winked. “Turn up the heat…if you’d like.”

Viktor nearly choked on and spat out his mouthful of tea, but forced himself to stay cool and swallow it down as normally as he could.

“That’s…that’s very kind of you, but I’m fine, really. I uh…realized that…the chairs would be cold and it would be rude to have my ass cheeks on them at breakfast.”

Viktor internally breathed a sigh of relief. His excuse had been more than plausible. He knew Yuuri wasn’t buying it, but at least he’d avoided stating the obvious. Yuuri’s face lit up with a knowing smirk.

“You’re such a considerate house guest, Viktor.”

…

Later that evening, Yuuri informed him that they would be going out and asked him to dress in activewear. Viktor tried to ask him where they were going, but Yuuri just smiled and shrugged.

“It’s a surprise.”

They got into the car and drove for about ten minutes before Yuuri was pulling into a parking lot. Still unsure as to what was going on, Viktor looked around and tried to figure out where they were. That’s when he saw it, a big sign that read ‘Ice Castle Hasetsu’.

“Yuuri, Yuuri! Is this a skating rink?”

The young Japanese man smiled.

“Yes, it is. And don’t worry, it’s outside the hours of operation and we have the whole place to ourselves.”

“How did you manage _that_?”

“Oh, I guess you can say I’m tight with the owners.”

In his excitement, Viktor had completely forgotten that he didn’t have his skates with him. They were through the front door of the place when it suddenly hit him.

“Yuuri, I don’t have my skates.”

Yuuri turned to look at him and smiled a secretive little smile at him.

“Just follow me, if you please?”

Viktor sighed and just did as he was asked.

When they got to the front desk, he saw a couple standing there. The male was a tall and imposing burly beast of a man, and the woman standing next to him was a thin and petite brunette. _What an interesting pair they make, those two._

“Viktor, this is Takeshi Nishigori and his wife Yuuko.”

Viktor recognized those names right away, they were Yuuri’s local Yakuza contacts. He was immediately nervous, unsure of how to act with these other gang members. The woman spoke first.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. Nikiforov! My husband and I are huge skating fans and have followed your entire career very closely. We’re so honored and privileged to have you here in our humble little ice rink.”

Viktor visibly relaxed at the woman’s friendly tone. _I guess gang members can be ‘just people’ too._

He smiled his patented smile and reached over to shake her hand.

“Thank you for your kind welcome.”

He then looked to her husband and offered his hand to him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Nishigori.”

The man clasped Viktor’s hands in his oversized ones and gave Viktor a painfully firm handshake.

“The pleasure is all mine. Like my wife mentioned, we’re huge fans. So even though the circumstances that brought you to Hasetsu are less than desirable, we’re still thrilled to have you here.”

“Yuuko Chan, you mentioned earlier that something arrived in the mail for Viktor,” Yuuri said.

“Ah! Yes, that’s right. Here it is.”

She reached under the counter and pulled out a box addressed to Anatoly Ivashkin and handed it to Viktor.

“These had to be shipped separately so that they didn’t draw unwanted attention to your regular luggage.

Confused, but suddenly very curious, Viktor tore into the box. When he opened it, he cried with joy at the sight of the golden blades.

“My skates! They’re here, they’re really here! I can practice!”

“Yep, that’s right,” replied Yuuri. “I know you have another competition coming up soon, so you can’t afford to be taking any time off.”

Viktor was so happy that he could have hugged all of them, simultaneously. He quickly found a bench to sit on and changed into his skates. As he stepped onto the ice, he felt home.

…

Saturday morning rolled around and Viktor woke up with the strangely comforting aches and pains that followed a good practice. He checked his phone for any updates on the IOC’s investigation but didn’t find any new developments. He did, however, have a text message from Yakov informing him of how things were back in Russia. Everyone was going crazy looking for him. Reporters couldn’t understand how he had vanished into thin air and neither could the Bratva. They seemed to have calmed down a bit since the IOC’s investigation had been officially announced, but still seemed to be preparing for the possibility that the investigation would rule that the men’s singles results were indeed legitimate. Makkachin was doing well and was getting regular visits from Yura, Mila and Georgi. Viktor was happy that things were going well but was still a bit homesick and a bit annoyed that his life had to go through such an upheaval just because a bunch of nasty people potentially made a bad investment.

He stood up and did a few stretches before walking out of his room. As he came upon the living room, he saw that Yuuri seemed to have fallen asleep sitting up on the futon. A book was left open, still clutched in his right hand. Viktor approached the sleeping man as quietly as possible, tip-toeing across the living room and gingerly going around the kotatsu. He knelt down on the futon and gently removed the book from Yuuri’s grasp, looking briefly at the cover before closing it and setting it down on the table. The title was in Japanese, and so Viktor was unable to determine what the book was about.

Once the book was set on the table, he turned his attention to the sleeping beauty before him. Yuuri’s lips were slightly parted, his breaths coming out softly and steadily. Viktor’s eyes traveled higher along the man’s delicate face and paused to admire his cute little nose before marveling at the disheveled hair that had fallen down messily across his forehead. He didn’t think it was possible, but he managed to find Yuuri even more beautiful. Unable to help himself, he reached out and tenderly brushed an errant lock of hair away from the Japanese man’s eye. And that’s when it all went to shit.

Yuuri’s eyes snapped open and stared at him, wild and unfocused. Before he knew what was happening, Viktor found himself on his back, both wrists being painfully pinned to the futon. Yuuri was sitting on top of him, legs wrapped around Viktor’s thighs, further immobilizing him. There was a stream of angry Japanese streaming from Yuuri’s mouth and for the first time in his life, Viktor was scared.

“Yuuri! It’s me, Viktor!”

Yuuri’s grip tightened painfully on his wrists and Viktor cried out in agony.

The sound seemed to finally snap Yuuri out of it and he blinked a few times before staring dazedly down at Viktor.

“V-Viktor?”

“Yuuri, my wrists! You’re hurting me!”

Yuuri looked down at his hands and eased up on the force holding Viktor’s wrists but didn’t release his hold on the Russian man. The man in question breathed a sigh of relief as the painful pressure eased up, but was confused as to why Yuuri hadn’t released him yet.

“Viktor, that was a very, very dangerous thing to do. Surprising a sleeping gangster trained in the use of deadly force was a _bad_ idea. I could have ended up…hurting you pretty badly. ”

“I’m sorry! You were sleeping and you just looked so cute that I had to go see and then I was just touching your hair and then you were all scary on top of me!”

Viktor’s voice had increased in pitch during the rapid rambling and Yuuri could tell that the man was on the verge of tears. He used his thumbs to rub soothing circles on both of Viktor’s palms, like he had done in the car on that first day.

“Shh, it’s OK. Everything’s fine now. I’m sorry I frightened you. Are you hurt?”

Viktor gulped mouthfuls of air as he tried to calm down and keep himself from bursting into tears.

“My wrists hurt a little. Holy shit Yuuri, you’re _so_ strong! How are you so strong?”

Yuuri’s mouth twitched slightly before it morphed into a wry smile.

“I train…a lot.”

Viktor nodded and continued to take in deep breaths and release them in shaky little bursts.

Yuuri’s heart ached when he noticed that tears had welled up in the corners of the Russian man’s eyes and were threatening to spill over. He leaned in and kissed away the tear at the corner of the right eye before doing the same for the left eye.

“There. That’s much better. Tears do not suit you, Viktor.”

Viktor had closed his eyes and his only reply was a trembling sigh that made its way past his lips. When Viktor swallowed, Yuuri’s eyes were drawn to the creamy column of the man’s throat, following the movement of his Adam’s apple as it was displaced by the action. He leaned in and placed a kiss on Viktor’s neck, just below the jaw, and was rewarded with a soft gasp.

“Sorry...”

Yuuri placed another kiss further down Viktor’s throat, eliciting a louder gasp. 

“…I…”

Another kiss, slightly lower than the last, had Viktor’s throat rumbling in a low moan.

“…scared…”                  

Yuuri switched to the other side of Viktor’s neck, suckling hotly at the skin as soon as his lips touched down on it, drawing a sweet little whimper from the man beneath him.

“…you…”

Yuuri placed open-mouthed kisses along Viktor’s neck, pausing to nibble lightly at a few spots, causing the Russian man to tilt his head backward, giving Yuuri further access to his skin.

“Forgive me?”

Yuuri licked a slow and arduous wet stripe from the base of Viktor’s throat right up to his jaw, and the man’s whole body shuddered. Viktor opened his eyes and stared up at Yuuri’s lust-filled gaze. His reply came out in a throaty whisper.

“Yes.”

Viktor ran his tongue along his upper lip to moisten it, and noticed how Yuuri’s eyes followed the movement. That short subsequent moment of silence between them seemed to stretch out for an eternity. And then, Yuuri was closing the space between them and capturing Viktor's lips in a kiss. It started out as a gentle act at first, the Japanese man’s lips soft and tender on Viktor's own. They took turns sucking and nibbling on each other's lips, as the passion built up between them. Viktor angled his head to deepen the kiss, and absentmindedly raised his hips off the futon, causing his growing arousal to push up against Yuuri’s own. The Japanese man growled, grinding his hips back into the man beneath him. Viktor threw his head back and moaned loudly as he lost himself in the delicious sensation.

Yuuri's eyes drank in the sight beneath him; Viktor's flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, and the breathless little sounds that were escaping his mouth.

“Kami, you are beautiful.”

Viktor opened his eyes and smiled up at Yuuri. He was about to lavish his own praise upon the Japanese man, but instead found himself being cut off by a pair of lips suddenly devouring his mouth, and a tongue intent on making him forget his own name. Yuuri rocked his hips actively back and forth, grinding their hardened cocks against one another mercilessly and sinfully. For a few minutes, Viktor simply forgot how to think. All he could do was moan helplessly into Yuuri's mouth as the various sensations threatened to overwhelm him. Once his brain remembered how to work, he started struggling against Yuuri's hold on his wrists, desperately trying to free his hands so that he could touch him. But Yuuri didn't seem to want to release him. Frustrated, Viktor broke away from the kiss, deeply flushed and panting heavily.

“Yuuri...please...I want...to...touch you.”

Yuuri's gaze shifted to his hands and he seemed to be genuinely surprised that he was still holding Viktor down. He released his grip on them immediately, holding his hands up in apology.

“Ah, sorry abo-...”

Yuuri was not given the chance to finish his sentence. Viktor had already managed to sit up, the action effectively pulling Yuuri flush into his lap. His hands were already fisted in the man's hair, pulling his mouth back down for a searing kiss. Yuuri's new position provided him with more leverage than before and he was totally unyielding is his use of this advantage. He threaded his left hand in Viktor's lush locks and placed his right hand at the base of the Russian man's spine. Each time Yuuri rolled his hips forward, he used the hand at Viktor's back to press the man firmly against him, and the room was soon filled with the sounds of their gasps and moans. Yuuri released his grip on Viktor's hair and dragged his palm across the milky white expanse of Viktor's chest before lowering it to palm Viktor's throbbing cock through his soaking wet bikini briefs.

“Viktor...I want....can I...?”

Viktor thrust into Yuuri's hand as he nodded enthusiastically.

“God, yes....please, Yuuri.”

Yuuri lifted off Viktor's lap and backed up down past his knees so that he was now sitting on the man’s shins. He reached for the hem of Viktor’s bikini briefs, pausing to run the pads of his thumbs along the deep v-shape carved into the athlete’s abdomen. He smiled when his act resulted in a tsunami of tremors that rippled its way outward from the point of contact and ended with a deep moan making its way past the Russian man’s lips. Yuuri slowly pulled the elastic waistband away from Viktor’s taut skin and shimmied the garment down off his hips, licking his lips as Viktor’s dripping cock was freed and bounced enticingly with the movement. Unable to wait any longer, Yuuri held the hem of Viktor’s underwear in one hand and reached out with the other. He ran his thumb along the slit, gathering the leaking precum and spreading it smoothly over the curve of the tip. Viktor cried out, the assault on his sensitive flesh making it throb and pulse further into Yuuri’s touch. The Japanese man placed a palm on Viktor’s chest and gently pushed on it, communicating his wish for the man to lie down. Viktor shifted his weight and rearranged himself so that he lying down comfortably on the futon. Yuuri was then able to slide Viktor’s bikini briefs, unimpeded, down his legs and off. Yuuri moved back up Viktor’s legs and leaned down to place some kisses along the column of his throat. He then reached down and took Viktor’s throbbing cock firmly in his hand, giving it a healthy squeeze. Viktor’s back arched right off the futon as a strangled cry was ripped from his throat. His hands came up and fisted themselves in Yuuri’s hair, pulling the man into his chest as he did so. Yuuri suddenly found himself in the vicinity of an enticingly pebbled and dusky nipple. Not one to pass up such a golden opportunity, Yuuri’s mouth was soon covering the nubile flesh, licking it and suckling at it.

“Fuck! Yuuri…ah!”

Viktor writhed beneath him, hands pulling almost painfully at Yuuri’s hair as the Japanese man rained down sweet torture with his mouth and hand. Yuuri released Viktor’s nipple with an obscene ‘pop’ sound before moving to lavish attention on the previously ignored one. Yuuri pumped Viktor’s cock a bit faster, his own hardened flesh straining against his shorts and begging for attention. He tried to push the thought from his mind for a while, he really just wanted to focus on pleasuring the debauched man squirming under him. Yuuri kissed his way down Viktor’s torso, pausing to dip his tongue into the man’s navel, which earned him a litany of delightful noises and another thrust from Viktor’s hips. Dipping lower still, Yuuri buried his nose in the thick thatch of silver curls, breathing in Viktor’s unique musky scent. He longed to see Viktor with his natural silver color. He knew that the brunette locks were necessary to complete the illusion of Anatoly Ivashkin, but he wasn’t very fond of them. When he’d originally been assigned the case, the picture he had first masturbated to had been one of Viktor with silver hair. So had the second and third. Yuuri replaced his nose with his hand, grabbing handfuls of the curls and pulling at them less than gently. Viktor moaned and more precum leaked from his slit, catching Yuuri’s eye as it glistened in the morning light flooding the living room.  Yuuri brought Viktor’s cock to his mouth and licked the entirety of his soaking slit, causing Viktor to dig his heels into the futon and thrust his hips forcefully into the contact.  Yuuri tisked reproachingly at the Russian man.

“Such impatience, Mr. Nikiforov.”

Viktor released his grip on Yuuri’s hair and propped himself up on his elbows as he lifted his head to shoot him a withering dirty look. Forehead beaded with sweat and face heavily flushed, he looked the perfect vision of a man lost to passion. A fire smoldered in the pit of Yuuri’s stomach. He wanted to wreck that man. He wanted him screaming beneath him. He wanted to burn his passion into him until his name was all he’d ever be able to think of.

“Are you going to actually do anything down there or were you planning on just staring at it all day?”

Yuuri laughed, pausing for a brief second to smile ruthlessly at the Russian man before him. It was the only bit of warning Viktor ever got, for in the very next moment, Viktor found his cock fully encompassed in Yuuri’s hot and filthy wet mouth. A scream that was a mixture of surprise and sheer pleasure tore itself from Viktor’s throat. He threw his head back and screamed a second time, when Yuuri began bobbing his head along his length. Viktor’s limbs suddenly felt like they’d turned to jelly, and he could no longer hold himself up. He fell weakly back down onto the futon, hands reaching out clumsily for something to hold on to, before making contact with Yuuri’s shoulders.  Yuuri wrapped his right hand around the base of Viktor’s cock and ran his left hand across the man’s abdomen and chest. He swirled his tongue along its underside with each bob of his head, slowing down each time he reached the tip to hollow out his cheeks to provide extra suction.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Viktor’s head tossed from side to side on the futon, his hands clawing desperately at Yuri’s shoulders and digging his nails into his flesh. His cries and whimpers grew louder with each passing second and Yuuri became impossibly harder than he was before. His erection was painfully trapped in the confines of his tight little shorts, and it was time to finally do something about it. He reached into his shorts with his free hand and pulled out his own dripping cock. Yuuri moaned as he began pumping his hand along his own arousal, stroking himself in time with the rhythm of his bobbing head. _Kami, this feels sooo fucking good. I’ve been dreaming of this moment ever since the moment I first laid eyes on him at the airport._ Yuuri’s moan, meanwhile, had a _very_ noticeable impact on Viktor and his dick. He began thrusting his hips forward with reckless abandon, effectively fucking Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri closed his eyes and relaxed his throat to better accommodate the large cock pounding right into the back.

“Y-Yuuri! I’m…going…about…to…”

As the first spurt of hot semen hit the back of his throat, Yuuri swallowed Viktor to the hilt and just stayed there, greedily gulping down every drop until the man was fully spent. His own orgasm was hitting him mere seconds later, painting Viktor’s thigh with his cum. Yuuri collapsed on the futon next to Viktor and the two men simply snuggled and panted in comfortable silence as they caught their breath. When Viktor seemed sufficiently recovered, he spoke.

“God, I’ve fantasized about that since the first day I saw you.”

Yuuri smiled knowingly as he nuzzled Viktor’s neck.

“Come on now, let’s get you some breakfast. I’ve just had mine, but wouldn’t mind some juice or tea.”

Viktor blushed beautifully at Yuuri’s mention of breakfast, seemingly embarrassed. Yuuri had to laugh a bit at how shy he seemed all of a sudden. If Yuuri hadn’t just had the same man pounding his cock into the back of his throat a few minutes earlier, he would have been completely fooled.

**Here's some art I have drawn for this fic. I have one more of Yuuri planed cuz he just looks so fucking hot in 'deadly casual'.**

Yakuza Yuuri: https://imgur.com/fT5kUIg

Viktor/Anatoly: https://imgur.com/cpNbzGm

**__terminology__ **

Боже мой (Russian: Bozhe moy) – Oh my God.

くそ (Japanese: kuso) - fuck

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The final chapter! Thanks so much to all those who read it. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Okay, so a bit of warning here, shit gets pretty hard core scary for a bit, but nobody dies...so please just try to get through it! Also, I hate guns and I hate that I had to write them in anyone's hands at all, but mafia people are generally armed to the teeth. They're pretty much born armed. Thankfully they don't get used. ^_^
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, I finished this at 1 am and my eyes were all tired and blurry from the over 12K damn words! >.<
> 
> I've decided to turn this into a series. I'll get to work on something as soon as I flesh out the ideas for it. Stay tuned!
> 
> My art for this fic:  
> https://imgur.com/gallery/pqLizE3 - Yakuza Yuuri  
> https://imgur.com/cpNbzGm - Viktor / Anatoly  
> https://imgur.com/zagQYEx - Deadly Yuuri

**_2 weeks ago_ **

The news that three Olympic figure skating judges were arrested and officially charged with conspiracy and gross misconduct made international headlines. As Viktor read the official press releases, he was finally able to grasp the depth of the entire fiasco. The Korean judge had conspired with the French and Italian judges to score skaters from each other's countries higher than other competitors. The French and Italian judges helped Seung-Gil win gold in the men's singles competition. The Korean and Italian judges had helped the French women's singles skater win gold and then Korean and French judges had helped the Italian couple win gold in the pairs' skate. It was a total clusterfuck and the IOC was now also under investigation for negligence in its hiring practices and vetting of judges. All three judges were suspended for 4 years and barred from judging any future Olympic events.

Yuuri sat down on the futon next to him and peered over his shoulder at the screen.

"Hmm, it looks like all guilty parties have been identified and charged. What is going to happen next? Will you get bumped up to gold and the Korean bumped down to silver?"

Viktor shook his head.

"No, I don't think that's what is going to happen. There will be some reshuffling of medals and awarding of new ones, but I don't think anyone is getting 'demoted' per se. I think that, the people who won gold will get to keep it, since it wasn't their fault that they won it. It would be wrong to punish them for someone else's mistakes. Competitors who won silver will be awarded gold medals to 'tie' with the other gold medal winners. Competitors who won bronze will get asked to return their medals and be awarded silver ones. And then those bronze medals will go to the competitors who placed fourth. It's going to be a HUGE pain in the ass for the IOC to get all those medals and exchanges sorted out."

"Hmmm. But that would mean that it'll soon be safe for you to return to Russia."

Viktor did not miss the hint of sadness in Yuuri's voice. He sighed heavily as he turned off his phone and put it on the table. He was  _so_  conflicted. He fiercely missed Makkachin and just really wanted this mess to be all over so he could go back home. But he also wanted to just ignore the world and stay here with Yuuri forever. The man stirred feelings in him he thought he had locked away for the sake of his career. For over twenty years, Viktor had sacrificed life and love for his art. If you want to be the best, you can't have either of those things. There just isn't time.

In the last couple of years though, he started feeling like it just wasn't worth it anymore. He had always prided himself in surprising people with his programs and music choices, but it just seemed like his bag of tricks had finally run out. There didn't seem to be much else that he could do to surprise people these days. He had seriously started contemplating retirement after the season ended, but the unknown terrified him. He didn't know who he would be once he stopped being Viktor Nikiforov, Russian figure skater, and eight-time gold medalist.

Viktor turned his body and brought a hand up to cup Yuuri's face. He smiled warmly at the young Japanese man as he gently stroked his cheek with his thumb.

"Yes, it means that I'll have to go back to Russia soon. I'll take with me the memories of these wonderful weeks we've spent together. And you'll get to add 'protection of a high-profile client' to your resume."

Viktor had made the comment off-the-cuff in a teasing tone. He had not expected Yuuri's eyes to harden the way that they did. Yuuri angrily ripped his hand from his face.

"You may think that this is just another 'job' to me, but it isn't. It hasn't been for a while. I guess it was just naïve of me to think that it meant something more to you, too."

Yuuri stood up abruptly from the futon and walked off.

"Yuuri, wait! That's not what I meant. Yuuri!"

The Japanese man stalked off and disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, effectively shutting Viktor out.

Viktor walked back dejectedly to the futon and flopped down on it unceremoniously before folding his legs under him.  _Shit. I've managed to fuck things up by running my mouth off again._   _How does this keep happening to me?_  Viktor pulled the kotatsu blanket up to his waist and placed an elbow up on the table. He lowered his head down onto his hand and sulked as he watched the snowstorm outside. It had been steadily snowing since the night before, and he could see that it had already piled up on the shrubbery and window sills. As Viktor watched the falling snow, the combined cozy heat of the kotatsu and hypnotic motion of the fluttering flakes soon had Viktor's eyes closing. He stretched out his right arm on the table and then lay his head on top of it. Soon, he was fast asleep.

…

As he paced back and forth in his room, Yuuri was feeling rather foolish and quite mad at himself. With all his training and experience, he had always thought himself smarter than the average person and above the pitfalls of ordinary human idiocy. So how had he allowed himself to think that Viktor saw him as more than just some kind of tryst? Had he just grossly misjudged the simmering looks he had shared with the man? Yuuri didn't want to believe it. He felt like there was something more, something deeper between them. The passion he had felt as he had pleasured Viktor the day before was not something he had experienced with anyone else before, on or off a job. There was this palpable electricity that flowed between them whenever they touched. He  _wanted_  Viktor, wanted to possess him in ways he had not even thought possible.

He thought he had seen those same things mirrored in Viktor's eyes. Certainly such things couldn't be faked, could they? Yuuri groaned as he tumbled onto his bed, pulling his knees into his chest. His mind and feelings were a swirling mess of uncertainty, and he was especially made miserable by the fact that his time with Viktor was rapidly drawing to a close. He wanted…no, needed…more time with the man. He wished that they could just keep living in this house as they were. Yuuri looked out the window and noticed that the snow had piled up quite high. With a heavy sigh, he pulled on his jeans, a pair of thick socks and his warmest sweater. He had to go out and do some shoveling, or they'd be fully snowed in and trapped in the home at this rate. He tiptoed out of the room, not sure what he'd say or do if he ran into Viktor on his way out.

As he walked by the living room, he saw that the Russian man had fallen asleep on the kotatsu table. Yuuri sighed as he took in the man's angelic sleeping face.  _I could see myself waking up every day to that face._ Yuuri went back to his room and grabbed a small blanket. He went up to Viktor's slumbering form and draped the blanket over his shoulders. He had to stifle a giggle when he noticed the string of drool leaking from the corner of Viktor's mouth.  _Well, waking up to **that**  would be a bit more challenging, but still perfectly doable._ He put on his jacket, scarf, and beanie before walking out to the genkan and pulling on his knee-high winter boots before donning his thick gloves. He grabbed the shovel and stepped out into the storm.

…

Viktor's sleeping position was not very circulation-friendly, and after a while, his blood deprived arm began to ache and roused him from his sleep. He lifted his head and hissed when his arm immediately began prickling. He flexed his fingers a few times to speed up the process, but still felt a bit of lingering numbness. The sun had already set and the house was a bit dark with only the hallway light providing illumination. He looked around the room and tried to listen for any signs of life inside the house, but all was quiet.  _Where's Yuuri?_  Viktor sat up straight and felt something slide off his shoulders. He looked at it in confusion.  _A blanket?_  He did not recall having this blanket on him when he passed out.  _Did Yuuri cover me with it?_

Viktor stood up and walked around the house looking for Yuuri. He wasn't in his room, nor the kitchen, and not in either of the bathrooms. Viktor also checked his own room, just in case Yuuri was in there for some reason, but found it empty. He started to panic a bit, wondering if something bad had happened to him. A bit of movement outside caught his eye and he looked out the window. He saw a dark shape outside who appeared to be shoveling snow. Viktor pressed his nose right up to the glass and squinted, trying to determine if the form was Yuuri or not. Upon closer inspection, he recognized Yuuri's scarf and beanie. A wave of relief washed over Viktor as he realized that Yuuri was safe, and just outside shoveling snow _. I wish he'd told me that he wanted to shovel snow._   _I'd be right there with him helping out if he had._

Viktor pouted as he realized that Yuuri was probably still mad at him and that it was best to just let him have his time out there in the snow. His finger came up to his lips and he tapped it against them pensively _. I could help out in other ways, though. What can I do for Yuuri once he comes back in from the cold?_ Viktor's eyes went wide as an idea suddenly hit him.  _I can cook dinner! Make a nice hot soup that would warm him right up._ He threw on his terrycloth robe and hurried to the kitchen, where he then slipped on an apron.

He opened the fridge and quickly assessed the situation. Thankfully, they had just gone grocery shopping the other day and so they still had quite a nice variety of ingredients. He grabbed some carrots, celery, rainbow peppers, and a package of chicken breasts from the fridge. He saw the potatoes on the counter but decided to go with the corkscrew pasta instead. He set a pot of salted water on the burner and got to work chopping the veggies. When the water reached boiling point, he dropped in the two cups of pasta and went about cutting the chicken into cubes. He took out another large pot and put it on the second burner. Once the pot was hot enough, he drizzled some olive oil into it and threw in the half-onion and cloves of garlic he had also chopped up earlier. The delicious smell filled the kitchen and Viktor was in his element. He really enjoyed cooking and was happy to do it, especially when it was for someone else. He threw in the chicken, seasoned it, and cooked it for about a minute before adding the rainbow peppers and cooking them for a bit as well. He filled the pot with water, added a bouillon cube and the rest of the veggies. He drained the pasta and set it aside. He would add it to the soup closer to serving time.  _Excellent, now this just needs to simmer for a bit until the carrots and celery are soft._

Feeling that something was still missing, he decided to go ahead and make a batch of Сахарное печенье. He took out the butter first, in order to allow it to soften while he prepared everything else. He pre-heated the oven and then measured everything out. He prepared the sugar finishing dip and a plate of sugar for dipping. He creamed the eggs and butter and then added the dry ingredients, kneading the mass until it formed a sticky dough. He cut the dough ball into two pieces and rolled one half of it out on the counter, opting to freeze the other half for future use. He then used a glass cup to cut out perfect little circles. He brushed the sugar finishing dip on each cookie, dipping it face down onto the sugar before popping it onto the baking sheet. He set a timer for ten minutes and then went about making some tea. He'd just about finished when he heard the front door opening. Viktor smiled triumphantly as he took in the nearly-complete meal in front of him.  _Ha! Still got it. Just about timed all of that perfectly!_

He used a wooden spoon to fish out a piece of carrot from the soup. He blew on it and then nibbled gingerly at its edges.  _Perfect!_  He adjusted the seasoning and then added the pasta to the pot of soup before turning off the heat. Everything would be the same temperature and ready to eat in just a few minutes. The timer went off on the cookies and he checked them, satisfied that they had turned a beautiful golden brown color. He turned off the oven and took the cookies out, scraping them off the baking sheet and onto a plate to cool. When he turned around, he saw a bewildered looking Yuuri standing at the doorway sniffing at the air. His face was flushed from exertion and his hair had fallen down onto his forehead, plastered to it with sweat.

"You cooked?" Yuuri sniffed the air again and his eyes grew wide. "You baked?!"

"Hiiiiiii Yuuuuri! Yes, I did. I didn't get the chance to help you with the shoveling, so I wanted to do something else to help you. Come on over and see what I made."

Yuuri crossed the room and came to stand next to Viktor at the stove. Viktor grabbed the lid on the pot handle and pulled it back with a flourish, causing a cloud of steam and delicious soup smell to billow out from within.

"I made some chicken noodle soup."

Yuuri peered down into the pot and his stomach growled audibly. His face got a little redder and he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly with his hand.

"Ah, sorry about that…I guess I must be really hungry."

"No need to apologize, shoveling snow is hard work. You must have worked up quite an appetite. Go wash up, I'll serve dinner."

Too tired and hungry to argue, Yuuri did as he was told. When he came back into the kitchen, he was hit with a wall of tantalizing scents. He took a seat at the table and waited eagerly for his meal. The soup smelled absolutely delicious and he was excited to tuck into a big bowl of it. He blew on his hands and rubbed them together. The temperature had dropped quite a bit in the last hour or so and his hands were still a bit numb, even though he'd been wearing gloves.

"Would you like some toast as well?"

Yuuri nodded eagerly. Having bread to dip into the soup or soak up the last dregs of it in the bowl would be perfect. Viktor set down two bowls of soup on the table and then a central plate with slices of buttered toast on it. He went back to the counter and grabbed their mugs of tea and then sat down at the table across from Yuuri.

"Itadakimasu!"

"What does that mean, Yuuri?"

"Oh, sorry…it's such a part of Japanese culture that I didn't even realize I'd said it. It kind of means 'I receive this food' and it's how we express thanks to whoever cooked the meal."

"Ah, I see! Well, you're welcome. Let's eat!"

Yuuri enjoyed the soup thoroughly. Severely, intensely, and utterly. Even Viktor had to blush at some of the borderline pornographic noises Yuri was making. When Yuuri got to the bottom of the bowl, he looked so devastated that Viktor nearly laughed.

"Would you like a bit more? We have lots."

Yuuri's head shot up and a huge smile lit up his face.

"Yes, please! It's  _really_  good soup!"

"Thanks! I…ah…can tell you're  _really_  enjoying it."

Once Yuuri finished his extra helping of soup, Viktor topped up their tea and then placed the cookies on the table. He put some jam out on the table as well. Warm sugar cookies tasted best with just a tiny layer of jam on top of them.

"What kind of cookies are these, Viktor? They look great!"

"They're Russian sugar cookies. They're thicker than American style sugar cookies and not as crunchy."

Yuuri grabbed a cookie and bit into it.  _Oh-my-god-it's-so-soft!_  He closed his eyes as he chewed the cookie, allowing all the flavors to fully envelop every corner of his mouth.

"Usually we enjoy them with a cold glass of milk, would you like to try that?"

"Yes, please! Just a small glass of milk, thank you."

Viktor poured some milk into a glass and handed it to Yuuri. He grabbed another cookie and then chased it down with a swig of milk. More questionably R-rated sounds escaped the young man's lips.

"Kami, I'm having a relationship with your food."

"Careful now, Yuuri. You're making me jealous."

Yuuri's face turned a pretty shade of 'tomato' and he sputtered helplessly for a few seconds, causing Viktor to laugh at his adorable distress.

"Yuuri, go ahead and take your shower now if you'd like. I'll clean up."

The young Japanese man excused himself from the table and quickly made his escape.

Viktor poured the leftover soup into an airtight container and put it in the fridge. He washed all the pots and dishes and then came across something rather interesting while looking through the cupboards. He grabbed the small tub and pulled it out of the cupboard. He smiled wickedly as he headed to the other bathroom for his own shower.  _Just wait and see, Yuuri. By the time I'm done with you tonight, there won't be a single doubt left in your mind as to what I feel about you._

…

Yuuri was floating on a cloud of contentment. He was all clean from the shower, had a stomach full of amazing food and was warm, fuzzy and drowsy. He had changed into jogging pants and a t-shirt and was currently relaxing on his bed with his eyes closed. He had to hand it to Viktor, the man had really outdone himself. A knock at his door roused him from his relaxation. Yuuri cracked one eye open to see a chiseled Russian god standing at his door. The man was shirtless and dressed only in drawstring pants. Yuuri's stomach was full, but he stared at Viktor like a man who was still starving.

"Hey Yuuri, may I come in?"

Yuuri pushed himself up on his elbows and nodded.

"Sure. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, everything is just fine. I just wanted to show you my thanks for shoveling the snow and for taking such good care of me."

"That's very kind of you Viktor, but it's not necessary. Besides, you already thanked me with that amazingly delicious dinner."

"Well, I insist. So please lie down and let me thank you."

Yuuri sighed and lay back down, not sure what it was exactly that Viktor had in mind, but feeling the thrill of excitement race through his veins. Viktor sat down cross-legged at the foot of his bed and then seemed to be reaching for something. He heard the sound of a container being opened and tried to sneak a peek to see what it was, but it was hidden from his view. He knew what it was right away though, once its unmistakable scent hit his nose.

"Where did you find coconut oil?"

"In the kitchen cupboard."

"Hmm, nice find. I love the smell of the stuff."

Viktor scooped a bit of coconut oil, semi-solid in the coldness of winter, onto his hand and rubbed his hands together, returning it to a liquid state. He grabbed one of Yuuri's feet and began rubbing his hands along its length, saturating it in the oil.

"Mmhhmm, that feels nice Viktor."

"If there's one thing I know, it's feet. Figure skaters have some of the most abused feet of all athletes, being able to do a proper foot massage can mean the difference between medaling or not."

Yuuri closed his eyes and relaxed, sinking comfortably into the mattress. His foot warmed up quickly under Viktor's ministrations, and he had to bite back a moan. The man expertly massaged toes, heel, arch and the top of his foot before moving on to the other foot. Yuuri sighed dreamily as his body was filled with bliss. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and Yuuri was feeling a bit sorry that Viktor seemed to be winding down on the massage treatment.

"Mmm, that was great Vik…ah…ahhhh!"

Yuuri was suddenly sitting fully upright on his bed, gawking in disbelief at the Russian man who currently had his big toe in his mouth, grinning like the cat that'd caught the canary.

"V-V-Viktor! What are you doi…eekk!"

The Russian man in question had just swirled his tongue around his toe and sucked on it. A strange tingling sensation ran from his toe and straight to his dick. Yuuri was alarmed. He had not thought it possible to feel turned on by getting his toe sucked on. Viktor finally released Yuuri's digit in a deliberate and unhurried movement.

"You have such beautiful feet, Yuuri. It's odd, I've never thought much about feet, they've always just been a means to my livelihood. But there's just something about  _your_  feet that make them irresistible."

Yuuri blushed. He hadn't thought his feet were very special, and he certainly hadn't imagined that it would feel pleasurable to have attention lavished upon them. Viktor leaned in and pushed gently against Yuuri's chest.

"Lie down, Yuuri. I want to love your feet."

Yuuri nodded and lay back down on the bed, and propped his pillow up so that he could have an unimpeded view of Viktor.

Their eyes locked and then Viktor began a torturous tongue assault on Yuuri's foot. He licked each toe seductively before taking each one into his mouth and sucking eagerly on it. Yuuri moaned as the heat from Viktor's mouth started having adverse effects on his body and fueled his growing levels of arousal. Viktor set that foot down and returned to the other, repeating the agonizingly sweet torment. By the time he'd finished with the last toe, Yuuri was a writhing and whimpering wreck on his bed. So lost was he in a haze of pleasure, that Yuuri did not realize Viktor had moved until he felt the man's firm hand palming his erection. Yuuri threw his head back and cried out at the sudden sensation on the previously ignored body part. His hardened cock had been straining against the confines of his jogging pants for quite some time, and he had leaked a rather large patch of wetness at the front.

"Yuuri, may I?"

"Sweet kami, yes!"

Viktor smiled as he reached for the hem of Yuuri's jogging pants and slowly shimmied them down. Yuuri lifted his hips off the bed and they easily slid right off. He hissed as his engorged member was exposed to the cooler air, bouncing once before settling against his stomach. Viktor pulled the pants off the rest of the way and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor at the foot of the bed. Viktor sat still at Yuuri's feet, eyes roving hungrily over the Japanese man's body.

"You're so beautiful, Yuuri. I've never been so enchanted by someone as I have been by you. You've drawn me in like a moth to a flame. I am helpless to resist you."

Yuuri's blood simmered under Viktor's heated gaze. It pleased him greatly to have the Russian skater devouring him with such smoldering eyes. He wanted Viktor's hands and mouth on him, and he wanted them  _now_. He sat up and reached out, placing his hand at the back of Viktor's head and pulling him in for a searing kiss. Their tongues met in a squirming clash of wills, and an elaborate dance of sensuality began as each man tried to dominate the other. When breathing became a biological necessity, the two men parted, each panting heavily as they stared heatedly into each other's eyes. Viktor was the first one to recover well enough to be able to speak.

"You're not…just some…conquest…to me. You're more…so much more. I want you so much…that it hurts. These feelings…they scare the shit out of me, Yuuri. I need you like I need to breathe."

Yuuri's answer was to bring Viktor back in for another breath-stealing embrace. Viktor had bigger plans than just kissing though, and had to literally pry himself from the Japanese man's arms. Viktor's voice was gentle as he chastised the eager man.

"Kissing you is great Yuuri, but I really want to address more…pressing matters."

Viktor stared pointedly at the seeping cock resting on Yuuri's stomach. Seemingly aware that it was being talked about, it twitched, rising slightly off Yuuri's body before settling back down. Viktor smiled cheekily as he noticed the movement.

"See, he wants to play too."

Yuuri returned Viktor's smile before leaning back down on the bed.

"My body is yours, Viktor. Do with it as you wish."

Viktor groaned as his own cock responded enthusiastically to Yuuri's words. He quickly reached for the coconut oil and slathered some more onto his hand. It melted immediately without any assistance, now that Viktor's skin was much warmer than before. He lowered his cupped hand down to Yuuri's center and drizzled the coconut oil along its hardened length. A soft gasp made its way past Yuuri's lips, and Viktor paused to admire how the oil slowly dribbled down the sides, making the appendage glisten beautifully in the light. Unable to hold back any longer, Viktor reached out and took Yuuri's slick cock into his hand, and Yuuri screamed.

Viktor did not give the man the chance to recover, firmly stroking Yuuri's cock until it was fully covered in the coconut oil, and his hand was slipping deliciously and frictionless along its length. Yuuri's back arched off the bed, and he threw his head back in a silent scream. His hands clawed desperately at the bedsheets, and his hips jerked erratically off the bed. Viktor pushed down firmly on Yuuri's hip trying to hold him still. He tightened his grip on Yuuri's cock and slowed his strokes down being sure to run his thumb along the slit with each slick caress. Yuuri was reduced to a babbling mess of incoherent rambling, cries and helpless little mewls. When he managed to finally find his voice, it was to cry out his tormentor's name.

"Ngh! Ahhh…Viktor!"

Still not satisfied with the amount of sweet, delicious misery he was inflicting on Yuuri's body, he used his free hand to reach for the coconut oil once more. He brought a slick finger to the puckered entrance of Yuuri's hole and began gently rubbing concentric circles there. Yuuri  _keened_. His body was wracked with so many overwhelming sensations and burning pleasure that it almost became too much for him to bear. Viktor seemed to notice that Yuuri was teetering dangerously on the edge and backed off the young man's cock a bit, choosing to focus on pleasuring him from the inside. He slipped a finger in easily, meeting only slight resistance from the ring of muscle at the entrance. Viktor began pumping his digit slowly in and out of Yuuri's hole, earning him a litany of dulcet little cries from the man.

It wasn't long before Viktor was able to insert a second finger, which extended his reach inside. Viktor spread Yuuri's leg's open and angled his hand as to reach deeper still. His fingers brushed up against the sensitive bundle of nerves and Yuuri's guttural scream was solid confirmation that he'd reached his intended target. Contended that he had the Japanese man right where he wanted him, he retook Yuuri's steadily dripping cock back into his hand and began a merciless dual assault. Poor Yuuri didn't stand a single chance of holding on. With one final cry, Yuuri's entire body shuddered violently, and he went over the edge. He came so hard that some of his cum splashed onto his face, and even spattered along his t-shirt. Viktor pumped his hand gently a few more times before removing his hand from Yuuri's rapidly softening cock, and then his fingers from deep inside the man's ass.

He leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on Yuuri's upturned lips before kissing each of his eyelids. Those same eyelids fluttered open a few seconds later and two stunningly dazed eyes the color of chocolate garnet stared up at him. He had noticed it the other time as well, but it seemed that the crimson tones of Yuuri's eyes became more visible when he was aroused. Viktor filed away this interesting bit of information away for future reference.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to wash my hands and grab a damp towel to clean you up."

Yuuri nodded weakly before closing his eyes once more. Viktor returned a few minutes later and had to nudge Yuuri awake to get him to remove his dirty t-shirt. Viktor used the clean parts of the t-shirt to wipe Yuuri's face and then the damp towel to clean up the rest. He cleaned up Yuuri's inner thighs and then rummaged around the closet for a clean t-shirt and another pair of pants. He felt a little guilty for wrecking the man so utterly after he'd exhausted himself shoveling snow all afternoon, but knew for a fact that Yuuri was about to have the best sleep of his life.

He propped Yuuri up against the headboard and slipped the clean t-shirt on one arm at a time. Yuuri was practically sleeping where he sat, his body resembling that of a ragdoll's. Viktor then dressed Yuuri in clean pants and tucked him in for the night, placing a gentle kiss on the man's forehead, thankful that it didn't elicit the same kind of reaction as the other day.  _Maybe he's either too exhausted or just somehow still aware of my presence._  Viktor looked down and grimaced at his wet jogging pants, filled with a rock-hard cock that was doing its damn best to not be ignored.

He grabbed some coconut oil with his right hand and pulled out his throbbing cock with his left. He didn't waste any time on teasing himself and building things up like he usually did. He needed to get off and he needed to do it quick. Pleasuring Yuuri and watching him get so fucking ravaged had given him a severe case of blue balls. The coconut oil also added a slew of new sensations, and the obscene noises his cock made as it slipped in and out of his oiled hand fanned the flames of desire. So it didn't take very long at all before Viktor was screaming his own release into the back of his hand, having used Yuuri's soiled t-shirt to catch his cum. Finally able to walk properly once more, Viktor took all the dirty clothes to the washing machine and started a load before heading to his own room for the night.

…

The next morning, when he got out of bed, Viktor found it odd that Yuuri wasn't up and about yet. The man was a ridiculously early riser and was usually up hours before he was. He knocked on Yuuri's door and didn't hear a response. That was particularly odd, since he knew that Yuuri was highly attuned to all noises and should have definitely woken up to the sound of knocking.

"Yuuri it's Viktor, I'm coming in."

Viktor opened the door and came upon a strange scene. Yuuri was completely tangled up in the blankets, his torso halfway off the bed and arms dangling limply over the edge. It looked like he had tried to get out of bed but had given up halfway through the process. He walked over quietly and gently poked one of Yuuri's arms.

"Yuuri, hey. Can you hear me, Yuuri? It's Viktor."

There was no response.

Viktor sat on Yuuri's bed and lifted the Japanese man's upper body until it was being cradled in his arms. Viktor was immediately alarmed by the state that Yuuri was in. His face was severely flushed and his forehead was absolutely drenched in sweat. He felt the heat rolling off Yuuri's face in waves and knew right away that he had a high fever. He untangled Yuuri from his deathtrap of blankets and bedsheets and lay him down on his back. He rushed to the bathroom and soaked a hand towel in cold water. He wrung the excess water from it and placed it on Yuuri's forehead.  _What do I do **now**? I can't read any of the medicine boxes and bottles in the house and I don't even know where he keeps the thermometer. If only there was someone I could call for help._

 _Wait…there IS someone I can call for help!_  Viktor ran back into his room and grabbed his phone. He wasn't sure if Yuuko was working now or not and didn't want to risk calling her at an inopportune time. So he decided to send a text message instead. At least he didn't have to worry about name use protocol. Yuuri had told him earlier to always address himself as Anatoly and refer to him only as 'the roommate' and never by any of his names or personas. _'Walls have ears and technology is easily breached'_ , he had said at the time.

 **Anatoly:**  Hi Mrs. Nishigori. Sorry to disturb you, but my roommate seems to have come down with a fever and I am unsure of what medicines to give him. Would you be able to provide some assistance? Thank you very much!

Within a minute, there was a response.

❤YUUKO❤ : Hi Anatoly! I'm sorry to hear that. I'll be over in 20 minutes, OK? Please wait for me!

Relieved that help was on the way, Viktor returned to Yuuri's side and refreshed the hand towel with cold water until he heard the doorbell ringing. He answered the door and let Yuuko in.

"Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. I feel so much better knowing that you're here now!"

Yuuko took off her boots in the genkan and handed Viktor her coat and scarf when he held out a hand for them.

"It's no trouble, really. Yuuri has been there for us countless times. We're more than happy to help out in the rare times he actually needs it!"

"That's good to hear. Follow me please, he's resting in his room at the moment."

Yuuko followed Viktor to Yuuri's room and knelt down at his side. She removed the damp towel from his forehead and pushed his hair out of the way before pressing the back of her hand on his heated skin.

"Hmmm, a fever of 39.2, that's pretty high alright."

Viktor's mouth flopped open and his jaw nearly hit the ground.

"You can tell the number just by using the back of your hand?!"

Yuuko giggled at Viktor's expression, covering her mouth in an adorable way as she did so.

"Yep. Takeshi and I are proud parents to triplets. When all illnesses come in sets of three, and sometimes four or five, you get pretty proficient at the diagnostic process! I still brought a thermometer though. Shall we check to see how close I was?"

Yuuko reached into the small bag she'd brought with her and pulled out a thermometer. It was one of the fancy infrared ones you just pointed into people's ears and spat out a digital reading. Yuuko turned it on and placed it in Yuuri's ear. Two seconds later the number 39.2 popped up on the screen.

"ни фига себе! You were spot on!"

Yuuko wiped the tip of the thermometer off with some rubbing alcohol and smiled.

"I put the MOM in therMOMeter."

It was Viktor's turn to laugh.

"That was  _terrible_. I love it!"

"So how did our friend here manage to end up with such a high fever?"

"Well, he spent the afternoon shoveling snow yesterday. He didn't have to do it all alone. I would have helped him if I had known! I fell asleep at the kotatsu and he didn't wake me up."

Yuuko sighed.

"That sounds like something he would do. Yuuri is very independent and quite stubborn. He has this thing where he doesn't like to appear weak in front of others. He probably felt that he could handle it on his own."

"But Yuuri is the furthest thing from weak! He's amazing!"

Yuuko smiled warmly as she placed a hand on Viktor's arm.

"I'm glad you feel that way. Please tell that to Yuuri once he's lucid enough. I think it'll do him good to hear it from someone outside the organization."

The next ten minutes were spent going over the agglomeration of medicines that Yuuko had spread out on the table. She was nice enough to write little notes on them in English for him so that he would know which one did what. There were pills for fever, pills for congestion, pills for cough, pills for daytime and pills for nighttime. Viktor's head swam with all the information suddenly thrown at him. He hadn't seen that many pills outside of a pharmacy before.

"You'll be fine, don't worry. As soon as he's awake enough to take medicine, give him two of the fever tablets first. Make sure he eats well and has lots of water to drink. Nothing cold of course, hot or room temperature only."

"Got it. Thanks again Mrs. Nishigori!"

"Please, call me Yuuko."

"OK Yuuko, thanks again."

"Call me or drop me a text if you need anything at all."

"Will do!"

Viktor accompanied Yuuko to the front door and stood watch as she drove away. About an hour later, Viktor was able to get Yuuri conscious enough to sit up and take the fever pills. Viktor had serious doubts as to whether he was actually all there and knew what was going on or not. Even in this state, Viktor couldn't help but think the man still looked incredibly cute. He had taken to sitting in Yuuri's bed and holding the man against him. He'd lean back against the headboard on a nest of pillows and then place a pillow against his chest for Yuuri to rest on.

He knew he was being a bit selfish, inserting himself into Yuuri's convalescence in this way, but he just wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. He knew that he'd be going back to Russia soon. He was just waiting for word from Yakov to set everything in motion. Viktor checked his watch and saw that it was time for another dose of medicine. This one had to be taken with food, so he carefully extricated himself from Yuuri's sleeping form so that he could go reheat some soup and get everything ready. He was about to step away from the bed when a hand gripped weakly at his wrist. Viktor looked down at Yuuri's disoriented expression and knelt down next to the bed, softly stroking the man's cheek as he leaned in.

"What is it, Yuuri? Do you need something?"

"Your hair…it's wrong."

Viktor was confused.  _His hair was wrong? He knew it was the wrong color at the moment, is that was Yuuri was talking about?_

"What makes you say that, Yuuri?"

"It was silver before, right? Viktor is prettier with silver hair."

Viktor smiled as he brushed some errant strands of hair out of Yuuri's eyes with his fingers.

"Oh, and you don't think I look pretty  _now_?"

Yuuri's eyes glazed over a bit as it seemed that he was rapidly reaching his limit of consciousness for the hour. He mumbled semi-incoherently as his eyes began to close.

"No-no-no, Biktoruuu miiiiine, 'ways pretty. Luv 'im."

Viktor removed his hand from Yuuri's face and brought it up to cover his mouth. It may have been the garbled ramblings of a sick man, but Yuuri's feelings had come through loud and clear. His eyes welled up with happy tears as he stared adoringly down at the Japanese man.

"Viktor loves you too, Yuuri."

And Viktor could have died a happy man right there and then, for no sooner had he uttered his declaration, than did a contented sounding sigh puff past Yuuri's lips and the young man smiled in his sleep.

…

For two days Viktor stayed by Yuuri's side, caring for him and nursing him until his fever finally broke. He was now conscious and able to walk himself to the bathroom and feed himself, but still quite weak overall.

"Viktor, I'm…"

"I swear to god Yuuri, if you're about to apologize to me  _again_ , I will throw you out the window into the snow."

The young Japanese man's mouth snapped shut and he stared dispiritedly at his wringing hands on his lap. Viktor sighed and sat down on the edge of Yuuri's bed. He reached out and covered the young man's hands with his own and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

"I know you keep trying, but there's nothing to apologize for. You didn't trouble me or inconvenience me in any shape, way, or form. I took care of you because I wanted to. If I hadn't wanted to, I would have found a way to pawn you off on someone else."

Yuuri's head shot up to look at him, and for a split second, there was a horrified look on his face.

"Don't think I couldn't or wouldn't do it. I'm  _extremely_  charming when I need to be."

The corner of Yuuri's mouth quirked up in a funny little smile.

"Okay, fine…I get it. I'll stop trying to apologize. Thank you for taking care of me."

Viktor sighed dramatically before tossing his head to the side in an overly exaggerated manner.

"I  _suppose_  I could forgive you, just this one last time."

Viktor heard the microwave beeping in the kitchen and stood up to retrieve Yuuri's late lunch. The chicken noodle soup he had made earlier in the week had run out and he'd had to make a new batch. He went with a minestrone type soup the second time around, which was heartier and had the kidney beans. He'd used the potatoes in this soup also, adding another hearty weapon to his arsenal of recovery veggies. He came back with a tray of soup, hot tea and more medicine for Yuuri.

"Here, make sure you eat every last drop. If you liked my other soup, you're going to absolutely lose it over this one."

Yuuri eyed the soup like a lion ready to pounce on a zebra.

"Where's your bowl? Aren't you going to eat with me this time?"

"No, I'm going out and doing the shoveling this time around. I've put it off for as long as I could, but this situation needs to be dealt with immediately. Oh, and Yuuri…you are absolutely forbidden from leaving this room until I return from shoveling. Understood?"

Yuuri's disappointed pout was so cute and precious that Viktor nearly had a change of heart and decided to stay in instead. Viktor shook his head as if to clear it. _No, I have to be strong and stick to my guns. I said I would go out and shovel snow and so that is what I must do._

"Listen Yuuri, I will have my phone with me the whole time. If you need anything, you can simply message or call. Now, I really need to get started on this so that can I try to make the most of it before the sun sets."

Yuuri nodded and pouted prettily again before turning his attention to the soup in front of him. Viktor placed a kiss on the top of his head before heading to the genkan to put on his winter gear.

…

A few hours later, a sweaty and exhausted Viktor just had the front of the house and main walkway left to shovel. As he walked to front door, he noticed some footprints in the snow that seemed to lead from the road into the house. He frowned as he looked down upon them. Had Yuuko or her husband popped in for a visit while he'd been out shoveling snow? He pulled out his phone and fumbled at it with numb fingers as he tried to send Yuuko a message before opting for the speech-to-text function.

Anatoly: Hey, when did u come in? Sorry I missed you, I was out shoveling.

❤YUUKO❤: I didn't? Takeshi and I are on our way to the rink with the kids. What's this about?

Anatoly: There are footprints coming from the road and going into the house. I thought it might be you.

❤YUUKO❤: We're on our way. Whatever you do, don't go in the house. We'll be there in 10!

Viktor stared at Yuuko's reply and every ounce of his being filled with dread. The footprints didn't belong to her…they were rushing over…she told him to not go inside the house.  _Oh my god, there's someone here after Yuuri!_  Viktor ran as quickly as he could to the front door, his progress impeded by the deep snow. He took a deep breath and paused to steel himself before opening the door as quietly as he could muster. He didn't want to unnecessarily spook whoever was inside. He gently closed the door behind him and immediately heard angry words being exchanged in Japanese. He hastily removed his jacket, scarf and gloves before gently placing them in a bundle on the elevated step of the genkan. He took of his boots and as he put them on the floor, he noticed the extra pair of shoes. They still had snow on them, which meant that whoever was in the house hadn't been there for very long.

Viktor slunk quietly out of the foyer and poked his head around the corner. His hands immediately flew up to cover his mouth as he took in the scene playing out before his very eyes. Yuri and some unidentified stranger dressed in all black were circling each other in the living room, each with a Japanese sword in hand. Viktor could tell that even though he looked alert, Yuuri was still suffering the effects from his fever and was nowhere near his usual levels of prowess.  _What do I do? What CAN I do?_  Viktor shifted his weight to the other foot and promptly cursed under his breath. He had come to stand on that one squeaky floor board that always makes itself known at the most inopportune times. Yuuri of course heard the sound and called out his fake name. The assailant seized upon Yuuri's distraction and dashed forward. Yuuri was just barely able to react in time, raising his sword to parry the assailant's blow. Carried forward by his momentum, the assailant allowed his blade to slide along that of Yuuri's, causing both swords to dip toward the floor. The assailant stepped in with his right foot and dealt a crushing blow to Yuuri's forehead with the handle of his sword. Yuuri crumpled to the floor in a heap and Viktor saw the man in black raise his sword for the final strike.

Viktor didn't know what happened or how he had even arrived at the decision, but his feet made the move before his brain did. They'd done so the moment he'd seen Yuuri get hit. He ran across the living room and launched himself at the assailant, managing to tackle him to the ground. The sword was knocked out of his hand and sent tumbling across the living room floor, thankfully out of reach. Viktor hadn't really thought through what he would do once he stopped the man from killing Yuuri, and was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was critically outmatched. His attempts to punch the man were swatted away and soon he found himself on his back, locked in place by some kind of grappling move. It suddenly dawned on him that it was rather foolish for a figure skater to try to take on an a deadly assassin. The man's hands wrapped themselves around Viktor's throat and began to squeeze. Viktor thrashed wildly beneath the man and pummeled at his arms with his fists, but nothing seemed to be able to dislodge his attacker.

His panicked eyes met the stone cold and emotionless ones of the man above him.  _Oh god, I'm going to die here._  Viktor's eyes blurred and his efforts became weaker and weaker as he was deprived of life-giving oxygen. His eyes filled with tears as he tried to turn his head to get one last look at Yuuri. He reached out with right hand, wanting to touch him just one last time.  _I'm sorry I won't get the chance to love you. I hope that I at least managed to buy you enough time until the Nishigoris arrive._ Viktor's throat ached and convulsed, and his lungs burned for air. Spittle collected at the corners of his mouth and the room echoed the sounds of his futile efforts to breathe. The darkness started to creep in at the corners of his vision and his arms fell limply at his sides.  _It won't be much longer now_.

He suddenly saw Yuuri's eyes fly open and tried to smile one last time for him, the act squeezing the tears out of his eyes and sending them rolling out their corners. Those eyes, they looked wrong though. They weren't Yuuri's kind, sexy eyes. They were looking at him, but also through him. They looked like they were on fire with something he hadn't seen in them before…pure hatred. In the next moment, the hands around his neck released their deathly grip. Viktor turned to lie on his side, pulling his body into a fetal position, and coughed and wheezed as he tried to catch his breath. He had just barely enough time to see Yuuri get to his feet and what he thought were two other pairs of legs before he fainted.

...

_**(A/N: all conversations between Japanese natives happen in Japanese, written in English for reader-friendly purposes)** _

Takeshi drove like a madman. Yuuko pulled out her gun, loaded it and slipped it into its holster at her hip. She took out a second gun and prepared it in the same way. She checked to make sure the safety was on and placed it on her husband's lap. She turned to face her three daughters in the back seat.

"You know the drill."

All three nodded solemnly as they each took out and loaded their own Taurus Curve mini handguns. They were to get out and hide under the car in defensive formation, guns out until their parents came back for them. Takeshi slammed on the breaks and drifted to a stop on the snow-covered front lawn. Yuuko and her husband ran into the house, pausing briefly at the scene before them. Yuuri was on the ground, bleeding from a wound to his head, and Viktor was being choked to death by an intruder. They shared a knowing look and jumped into action. Yuuko called out Yuuri's name and he immediately opened his eyes. Takeshi ran over to the man dressed in black and punched him in the face so fiercely that the entire room filled with the sound of his nose being broken. Takeshi then pulled the man off Viktor, revealing to everyone's great relief that they had made it in time; the Russian man was still alive. They saw him cough and sputter for a few seconds before apparently fainting. Yuuko ran over to him to check on his vitals and Takeshi restrained the intruder, folding the man's arms back so sharply that it looked as if his shoulders would be dislocated.

Yuuri was soon kneeling on the ground next to Yuuko.

"He's alive right? We both saw it. Tell me he's alive, Yuuko!"

Yuuko threw her arms around the distressed young man and patted his back soothingly.

"Shh, it's OK. He's alive, Yuuri. Look, you can see the rise and fall of his chest."

Yuuri looked down at Viktor's unconscious form and nodded as he released a shaky breath.

"I'll take care of him, don't worry. Go deal with  _that_."

Yuuko's eyes narrowed as she motioned toward the man currently screaming like a banshee and ineffectively trying to jerk his hands from Takeshi's iron grip. The change that came over Yuuri was immediate. His eyes took on a cold and calculating air and his jaw muscles tightened visibly. Yuuko had only ever seen that look on Yuuri's face one other time, and it had ultimately ended with the decapitation of an enemy. She knew better than to say anything, for it was not her place to judge. She and Takeshi both had taken a handful of lives in their line of work. Mostly it was done with a kind of almost uninterested detachment. But there were times when things got personal, and Yuuko knew that the punishment for this man would be intentionally severe.

Yuuri walked up to Takeshi, a bit wobbly from the head wound and his recent illness.

"Take him out back."

Takeshi nodded and pushed the intruder back up onto his feet, and manhandled him out the back door. Yuuri picked up his katana and walked to the door, stopping briefly to look back at Yuuko.

"There are ice packs in the freezer. He'll be bruising soon."

"Understood. Go Yuuri, I've got this."

Yuuri nodded, pausing to run his hand through his hair, pushing it back and off his forehead. He then walked outside in his socked feet, t-shirt and flannel pants.

_…_

When Yuuri stepped out into the winter night, he didn't even feel the cold. Nothing could rival the ice flowing in his veins at the moment. Takeshi had the man down on his knees in the snow and he straightened his back and lifted his chin before approaching them.

"Who sent you?"

The man spat on the snow, spraying it with blood and turning it pink.

"Fuck you."

"I see. Takeshi, if you would?"

Takeshi forced the man onto his feet once again, tearing more screams of agony from him.

Yuuri stepped in front of the assassin and brought his sword out in front of him, placing his right hand on the handle.

"You came after me, and that's fine. You were simply doing what you've been ordered to do. However, you made the mistake of involving someone who was  _not_  part of your assignment."

"Fucking feeble-assed pansy had no business trying to take on someone clearly stronger than him. And for what? Just to keep me from chopping your head off? Buying you a few extra minutes? Weak. If he hadn't stuck his nose where it didn't belong, you'd be dead by now and I'd be getting the biggest fucking payout of my life."

Yuuri saw red. He was so filled with rage in that moment that he could barely see straight. This piece of  _filth_  in front of him had first tried to kill Viktor and now had the gall to insult him in his presence. Yuuri locked eyes with Takeshi and made a barely perceptible movement with his head. Takeshi kicked the back of the assassin's knees, causing the man to fall forward. Takeshi released his grip on the man's arms at the same time, and as he began to fall, he instinctively put his arms out in front of him to brace for impact.

"You will pay for touching what is MINE."

Yuuri unsheathed his katana and swung it down in one smooth movement, forcibly detaching both hands from the assassin's body. The man would have screamed if he could, but he had his face pushed deep into a pile of snow, which effectively muffled any sounds he was trying to make. No matter, he'd lose consciousness soon enough. Yuuri flicked his wrist, causing the blood coating his blade to slide off, leaving a bloody streak in the snow.

"Make sure he lives."

Yuuri sheathed his katana and walked back into the house. He managed to make it back into the living room before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and blacked out.

...

From the depths of a dreamless void, Viktor could feel his head being stroked. There also appeared to be something warm and soothing on his throat. They were both rather pleasant and comforting sensations and he wanted more. He was trying to lift his head and lean into the touch when he heard his name being called. When he opened his eyes, he saw Yuuri's face. It was upside-down, and it took Viktor a few seconds to realize that his head was on the Japanese man's lap.

"Yu-..."

Viktor managed to croak out the one raspy syllable before he launched into a massive coughing fit. Yuuri immediately helped him into a sitting position, the hot towel that had been covering his neck falling to the floor.

"Don't try to speak, Viktor. Your throat will be sore for a day or so. Wait here, I'll be back with some calming honey tea."

Viktor nodded as he watched Yuuri leave. As he looked around, he noticed that they were on the living room futon. Viktor brought a hand to his throat and brushed against it tentatively. He hissed as he was immediately flooded with pain. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to swallow, everything hurt. Yuuri was back just a sort while later, and upon closer inspection, it appeared that he was feeling a bit roughed up as well. There was a bandage plastered onto his forehead, and bruising that was visible on its outer edges. Yuuri's eyes were totally bloodshot and he looked a pure mess. Viktor gladly accepted the mug of tea, sighing blissfully as the hot liquid soothed his raw throat from the inside. Viktor had barely set his mug down on the table before he was tackled by Yuuri.

"Viktor, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry that you got dragged into the hit that was intended just for me! I'm sorry you got hurt and that I couldn't protect you! I'm..."

Viktor had placed a finger on Yuuri's lips, effectively shushing the young man. He knew now why Yuuri's eyes were so red. The man had apparently been torturing himself with guilt. When Viktor spoke, it was in a soft and barely audible whisper.

"Not your fault. I'm happy that we're both alive. A bit beat up, but alive. That's all that matters."

"Oh Viktor, you foolishly brave man. Here I am supposed to be protecting you, and you ended up protecting me instead. I'm not sure whether I should be incredibly proud or severely horrified."

"Yuuri, there's something you need to know."

Yuuri winced as he prepared for the worst.  _He hates me, I'm sure of it! He's going to ask to go back to Russia right now and never want to speak to me again._

"When I was...being attacked...the most overwhelming feeling I experienced was regret."

Yuuri's eyes grew as wide as saucers.  _Oh my god, he regrets ever meeting me!_

"I regretted that I wasn't going to have the chance to tell you the truth."

Yuuri's gaze lowered to his lap and he stared at his hands, crestfallen, while he waited for Viktor to tell him that he hated him.

"Yuuri, I love you."

Yuuri's head shot up so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. His mouth dropped open and hung there as he stared at Viktor in utter disbelief.

Uh...Yuuri...these kinds of declarations usually require some kind of response."

"You don't hate me?"

"Okay, not the response I was expecting, but no. I could never hate you,Yuuri."

Viktor reached for more tea while he waited for Yuuri to compose himself. He raised an eyebrow at the Japanese man.

"Well?"

"Oh my god Viktor, YES! I mean, I also love you! I love you too!"

Yuuri launched himself at Viktor a second time, and they both tumbled down onto the futon.

...

_**1 week ago** _

Viktor was able to use his voice to its fullest a mere day after the whole fiasco. There had been some very ugly and noticeable bruising on his throat at first, but then a doctor had shown up at their door with Yuuko and her husband, and had worked his mojo on him and Yuuri both. He had given him some Swiss ointment to massage into the bruises and that stuff worked so well that Viktor briefly wondered what kind of voodoo magic had been packed into the tiny little tube. Within three days, nearly all traces of bruising were gone.

Viktor had tentatively asked Yuuri what had happened to the assassin. Yuuri had been brutally blunt in his reply, and had not spared Viktor any details. After the assassin had had his hands cut off, Takeshi had tied a tourniquet around each stump to keep him from bleeding out. He'd taken the unconscious man's severed appendages and disposed of them, and bloody snow had been covered up by fresh snow. A driver had been called and the assassin had been driven to a hospital in an unmarked vehicle, and dropped unceremoniously in the parking lot of the emergency room. He would never be able to land his hands on anyone, or anything, ever again. Viktor could honestly say that he didn't feel very upset about that at all.

The news from Yakov had finally come, and Viktor was to return to PyeongChang in two days to first receive his gold medal before returning to Russia. He no longer dreaded returning to Russia, for he knew it would only be for a short time.

Yuuri had asked him to stay and live with him in Japan and Viktor had readily agreed. Yuuri now knew about Makkachin and was very excited to meet him and have him live out his twilight years with them both. Viktor would finish out the current season and then announce his retirement. He didn't quite have a plan for the future yet, but thought that he could certainly benefit from a nice vacation from skating. He was rather looking forward to  _not_  being Viktor Nikiforov; Russian skating legend. He was most excited about the chance to just  _be,_ and be with Yuuri of course.

As he came out the shower, all clean and in a freshly laundered pair of bikini briefs, Viktor found himself grabbed and pushed up against the wall a split second before a pair of lips descended hungrily on to his mouth. After quite some time, the two men finally pulled apart, the need for air trumping their need to have their tongue down each other's throats.

"Mmmm, Yuuri. I love it when you ravage me."

"Oh good, cuz I fucking love ravaging you."

Yuuri slid both hands down Viktor's back until they reached the muscular globes of his sculpted behind. He cupped that ass and gave it a firm squeeze, earning a startled gasp from the Russian man's lips as he felt Yuuri's hard cock pushing up against him.

"Bedroom. Now."

Viktor did not have to be told twice. He grabbed Yuuri's hand and practically ran to his room.

**_Present time..._ **

And that's how Viktor came to be on his knees on the mattress, hands restrained behind his back and Yuuri's thick cock filling him to the brim. The indecent sounds of their lovemaking filled the room and added to the symphony of Viktor's muffled cries and Yuuri's whimpers and moans. Viktor had been too impatient apparently, when he had tried to rip Yuuri's clothes off too quickly. That's how he'd ended up handcuffed. Yuuri had told him that he was not allowed to scream (doctor's orders) and Viktor had scoffed at the idea, claiming that it would be a physical impossibility. That's how he'd ended up with his bikini briefs stuffed in his mouth. Not that he was complaining, there wasn't much time to think about anything else except that unbelievable ass-pounding he was receiving. When Yuuri reached out and took his dripping cock in his hand, he knew that he wouldn't last much longer. Viktor came seconds later, cum splattering down onto the bed sheet and coating Yuuri's hand. Yuuri's own release followed shortly after, cock twitching violently in Viktor's ass as he screamed at the top of his lungs. Once they'd both had a chance to recover, Viktor peppered Yuuri's face with butterfly kisses.

"Great, now I need another shower."

"Mhmmm, mind if I join you?"

"Nope, not at all."

...

'Kaito Watanabe' drove him back to the Fukuoka airport, wearing that same god-awful orange polo shirt and khaki pants, company logo plastered onto the car once more. As Viktor thought back on his month with Yuuri, he couldn't quite believe that an Olympic scandal had placed him in the Bratva's cross hairs. How he had escaped the Russian mafia by hiding out with the Japanese mafia, and how he'd ultimately ended up falling for his bodyguard.  _If I didn't actually live through it all, I would have sworn that this had all just been a pretty impressive Hollywood movie._ Their car ride had been a mostly silent one, each man deep in contemplation, an air of sadness filling the vehicle. They both knew that they would have to be apart for a bit before they could be together indefinitely, but it still didn't make it any easier. Viktor had found a new passion; something to look forward to again. Yuuri had given him love, and in the process had also given him a new life to live for.

Yuuri pulled the car in to a stop in front of the departure gate.

"Thank you for choosing Dreamland Tours, Mr. Ivashkin. We hope you've enjoyed your time in Japan and look forward to serving you again in the future."

"Thank you, Mr. Watanabe. I had a most wonderful time in Japan and have definite plans to visit again in the near future."

Viktor tried not to cry as he turned his back on Yuuri and walked into the departure hall. He could do this. It was only going to be for a short time. They'd be in touch the whole time. Fuck it if he still didn't hate it, though. He checked in, got his boarding passes and flew through customs. As he moped and sulked at his departure gate, he decided to get some coffee. When he reached into his coat pocket, there was something in it. He pulled out a bright orange envelope with  _Dreamland Tours_  stamped onto it. He tore it open and pulled out a letter.

_Dearest Viktor,_

_I can't wait for you to be back in my arms, they already feel so empty without you. I shall dream of your soft lips and hot hands on my body. Hurry back to me, my love. You already possess my love and my soul. When you come back, possess my body and make me yours._

_Love, Yuuri._

And just like that, Viktor was re-energized. He suddenly found himself overflowing with incentive.

...

Viktor graciously accepted his gold medal from the IOC at an official press conference. He was his usual charming self and glibly deflected questions about the past month and his absence from the media. His current plans were to return to Russia and train hard for Worlds. He informed the press that he would not be taking any more questions and left to meet Yakov at the hotel. As he walked past a mirror, he ran his fingers through his silver locks. It felt so good to be 'himself' again. He had dealt with the issue as soon as he had dropped his bags off at the hotel. He couldn't stand having that brown hair a second longer.

Back in St. Petersburg, he immediately made a beeline for Lilia's house to pick up Makkachin. Once fully settled back into his training routine, he launched himself into the preparations for Worlds. Less than a month later, he was in Helsinki, skating two gold-winning performances. He was now also a Guinness Book of World Records holder at ten consecutive gold medals. He announced his retirement to the world, which surprisingly didn't cause as much of an uproar as he thought it would. He chalked it up to most people surmising that he would be retiring soon, given that he was considered 'ancient' in the sport.

He got Makkachin vaccinated and put his travel documents in order, sold his house and boarded a first-class flight back to Fukuoka. Ironically, it included a layover in Helsinki, and Viktor got to relive his last gold medal a bit.

At the Fukuoka airport, he picked up his two large suitcases and then Makkachin from the cargo counter. He had quite a few boxes shipped from Russia, and they'd be arriving in a few weeks or so.

Yuuri was there at the arrivals lounge...as himself. No disguises, tacky clothing or unnatural hair colors between them this time around. Viktor set his suitcases down next to Makka's carrier and ran into Yuuri's waiting arms. He was  _home_.

...

It was late April and the weather had warmed significantly. The seagulls made their presence known and reminded Viktor of his old life in St. Petersburg. Makkachin bounced happily along the beach, trying to catch the crabs as they scurried back into their crab holes. He had asked Takeshi to secretly get in touch with the person who owned the house and ask how much money they wanted for it. Viktor was given a number and paid for it in full. The beautiful Minka house now belonged to him and Yuuri. They would make new memories together, the three of them, and fill the house with life and love.

 **_** **terminology_**

Сахарное печенье (Sakharnoye pechen'ye): Russian: sugar cookies  
Here's a recipe if you'd ever like to try them! /2016/11/04/russian-sugar-cookies/

ни фига себе!(ni figa sebe!): Russian – I'll be damned!


End file.
